


Beautiful to Me

by Its_me_Michael



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Insecurity, M/M, No SQUIP, Sadness, based off a oneshot, i don’t know, kill me, lol just read it, michael is insecure, michael starts out hating jeremy, skin disease, stangers au, this book makes no sense, this isn’t a well written book, vitiligo, vitiligo! Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-29 14:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 22,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15731082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_me_Michael/pseuds/Its_me_Michael
Summary: Hi. My name is Michael Mell. I’m seventeen years old and I have a skin disease called vitiligo, and it recently stopped spreading. I hate how ugly I am and that wherever I go, I attract stares— and not the good kind. I don’t think I’ll ever be happy.—————————Hi. My name is Jeremy Heere. I’m seventeen, and I have this amazing girlfriend named Christine. I love how kind and caring and bouncy she is, even though sometimes she looks sad... mostly when she looks at the boy in the red hoodie with splotches all over his face. Even so, I feel like my life is at its happiest point.—————————Hey, I’m Christine. I have this sweet, caring boyfriend named Jeremy. He’s amazing and cute and kind. This thought keeps crossing my mind, though: Am I in love? Sometimes I look at Michael and remember our friendship and what tore it apart. I hate him for that. I feel as if my life couldn’t get any more complicated than it is now.————————I was wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

(Michael's PoV)

_My_ _life_ _is_ _hell_.

I crossed my arms, slouching in front of the old computer in front of me. Its screen flickered twice before turning black. Again.

_Junior year wasn't that bad._

I sighed and put the blunt back to my lips and took a deep breath, inhaling the fumes and chemicals. I felt my breathing slow down and I shifted in the seat, not wanting to leave the warmth.

_Then senior year came. The big year, the perfect year for my grades to slip. The perfect year for everyone to judge you just by the way you look._

_The perfect year for—_

I took another breath. Adjusting the volume on my headphones, I felt the world fade out as everything was drowned out by Bob Marley's voice.

_At least nobody knows who I am. I'm just the stoner who cries too much and wishes he were dead._

_I wish I were... less invisible to everyone. Or_ someone _, at least._

_Everything about me is just terrible._

_I'm ugly._

I had vitiligo. My face and body were covered with lighter splotches of skin that made me look like an inverted cow.

It made people point and whisper about me.

Whatever.

I shook my head to clear the thoughts out of my head and restarted the computer. Its loud humming filled the room as I unplugged my headphones from my phone and hooked them up to the computer.

Why? Old habit, I guess.

After what felt like twelve years, it finally started up. I opened a Google Doc and started to work.

The most annoying person in the world is Christine. Her and her obsession with theatre.

 

I quickly designed the play sign up sheet and hit print. Grabbing my backpack, I saw that the word _riends_ had been scrawled into the back.

_Riends? What the hell?_

I rolled my eyes, stood up and walked over to the printer. Picking up the sheet of paper, I trudged towards the auditorium.

Opening the door, I was only slightly surprised by the sight in front of me.

I had walked in on Christine making out with some boy in the back of the auditorium.

 You know, if he hadn't been sucking Christine's face, I would have thought he wasn't the least attractive person I've ever met. He had hazelnut hair and his eyes were a nice shade of closed. His navy blue jacket smooth and pretty, I guess. He wasn't _that_  ugly.

I crossed my arms and walked over to them, clearing my throat loudly.

It was pretty funny how fast they shot apart after that.

They spun towards me and I smirked. 

"What happened to Dustin? Or _Jake,_  for that matter? You know, I think you're moving a _little_  quickly for this to be the third guy that has his tongue in your mouth this week." I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

Easy.

Her face flushed and she crossed her arms, embarrassed. "What do you want, Michael?"

The boy also turned to me and I saw his eyes.

_Blue. They're blue._

Said eyes filled with confusion as they flickered first over the splotches on my face as neck, then to my hands. They seemed to ask, _What happened to your face?_

_I'm so ugly._

Whatever.

_Who even cares about eye color except me anymore?_

I took my time, slowly pulling the completed sign up sheet out of my pocket as her face began to slowly grow redder with annoyance. Eventually she said, "Since we seem to have all day, why don't you be gentlemen and introduce yourselves to each other?"

_This is going to be a long day._

Whatever.

"Here you go," I said shortly, shoving the paper into her hands. I turned and began to leave, but I was stopped by a hand on my arm.

That boy has attachment issues.

I turned around. "What do you want?" I said irritably, exhaling smoke in his face.

First thing I noticed: he was a _lot_  taller than me.

I breathed smoke in his face anyway.

Coughing, he waved his hand around and said, "Don't you want to know my name?"

"Frankly, I don't care what it is." I crossed my arms.

I do that a lot.

"It's Jeremiah," he puffed. "But you can call me Jeremy. Please don't call me Jeremiah."

Whatever.

"I don't care." I turned to leave again.

"Can I have yours?" His voice echoed through the auditorium.

"No."

"Do you _always_ avoid everyone like this?" I opened the door, but then closed it and turned around.

"Better than having someone close to you," I said quietly.

He was silent after that.

"Leave him," Christine told Jeremiah. _Jeremy._ "He's not worth it."

I turned back around but she continued to talk. Whatever.

"You guys need to learn how to properly talk about someone behind their back," I stated loudly, not turning around. "First objective is to make sure they're not _there."_

She ignored me. Why would she care that I was there?

I sat in the back and they moved to the front, closer to the stage, away from me.

Away from _me._

Talking about me.

Whatever.

I heard Christine's voice. "He's a loner. Drives an old P.T. Probably crazy. He's been smoking a lot since end of junior year."

"That's... kind of sad," was the reply.

_What. A. Prick._

Whatever.

"What happened to his face? Why is it all..." He stopped.

"Splotchy?" Christine intervened. "He has vitiligo."

"Oh" was the only reply.

_I'm so ugly._

"Yeah, he's kind of a loser.  Stay away from him. He's a pretty messed up kid. I feel bad for him."

Whatever.

Silence.

"Is he... high? Is that why he's so angry at everything?" Jeremy asked. 

_What the hell?_

"Probably." Christine.

_Calm down. Stop caring._

"Why doesn't he just stop smoking then?"

Whatever.

"I don't know."

_I am high. So high._

Whatever.

Whatever. 

_Whatever_.

But it wasn't.

_It matters to me. I guess I care what people think._

"What the hell!" I yelled, loud enough for them to hear.

_Loner._

_Messed up._

_I feel bad for him._

_Smoking since junior year._

_Stoner._

_Loser._

_Not worth it._

_Kind of sad..._

I turned to Christine. "Why are you so _fucking persistent_ in judging me?! You probably don't even know my last name!" I turned to Jeremy. "And you, _Jeremiah,_ don't even know my name at all!"

"It's Michael," he said shortly, crossing his arms. "Don't call me that."

"Wow!" I said, my voice cracking. I walked over until I was _right_ in his face. I pulled down his jacket so his face was level with mine.

"You are a fucking _prick."_

"I--" he stuttered.

"Do I not mean anything?  Is that why you feel so free to talk about me like this? While I'm right behind you?"

"You don't care." Her voice was matter-of-fact.

"And that, Christine, is the exact reason why I _hate_ you so much!"

My voice lowered.

"Because you always assume that nobody cares."

I let go of Jeremy's jacket slowly. I felt my arms drifting to my sides.

"Because nobody cares."

I felt a tear run down my face. I felt disconnected from my body.

My feet turned of their own accord and I walked slowly out of the auditorium, thinking.

_Because nobody cares._

I heard the bell ring, but made no move towards my next period class.

I felt my feet moving towards the janitors closet. I watched my hands slowly open the door and walked in, closing the door and locking it behind me. Embracing the darkness, I felt more tears run down my face and heard a strange sobbing noise. I then realized the sound was coming from my own chest. 

I started to cry harder. covering my face with my knees, I cried, alone, for hours.

Eventually I had no tears or breath left to keep crying, so I just sat and thought. At some point, my thoughts drifted to the boy I had met today. Jeremiah.

_He's a prick._

Oh well. I needed someone new to hate anyway.

_And he's perfect for the job..._

 

(Jeremy's PoV)

We pulled away again, and Christine had a small smile on her face.

_I'm glad I asked her out and she said yes._

But after a few moments, her smile fell.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She started to play with her fingers absentmindedly, nervously. "I'm just worried. Michael hasn't had a breakdown in a while, and I'm scared that he might cut himself, o-or..." Her voice dwindled. "So I hoped you would agree to go find him, just to, um, make sure he's okay? Just to make sure he's not hurt..."

I nodded, understanding. "I'll find him."

"Good." She still looked nervous. "A-and... could you maybe tell him... that I'm sorry for today and I didn't mean it?"

"Yeah." I stood up out of the seat and walked out of the auditorium to look for the boy I never even properly met.

_Even though he seems kind of edgy, I hope he's okay. I hope his home life is okay._

I walked into the bathroom. No Michael.

_He's definitely not in the classrooms... or the cafeteria. Maybe a closet?_

I walked towards the closest closet to the auditorium, which was closed. I noticed a knot in my stomach and my fingers shaking slightly. I turned the doorknob and pulled the cedar wood back.

The small area was full of smoke.

Coughing, I fanned out some of the smoke to see a small figure sitting huddled in the corner.

Michael.

His eyes were red and puffy and there were tear tracks down his face. His... splashed face.

Splashed. With a light tan color.

"Michael?" I whispered.

"What do you want?" was the reply. His expression, though clouded by tears, was still unreadable.

"I jut wanted to make sure you were okay."

He read straight through me. "No," he said slowly, " _Christine_ wanted to make sure I was okay. She wanted you to come find me and make sure I wasn't hurt. And to _apologize_ for what she said. And to tell me that she didn't mean it. Right?"

_Oh._

"And you listened to her because _isn't she just the cutest?_ But you actually did worry when you didn't find me right away, huh? And then you did, and you were relieved. Did I miss anything?" He crossed his arms expectantly.

_That was surprising._

"You know, when you've hated someone _and_  put up with their shit for four years, you can usually predict how they're going to act," he said, stretching his legs.

_How did he know?_

"And if I were you, _Jeremiah,_  I would leave me alone. I've had a shitty year, and I don't really need to walk in to my least favorite room in the school to watch people suck face."

"I'm sorry," I tried.

"Not really," he responded coldly. "You don't know what's happened to me."

"Then why won't you tell me?" I asked, becoming frustrated quickly.

"Frankly, I don't like you that much. And... don't you have a class to get to?" 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for self harm and homophobic f-slur
> 
>  
> 
> Happy reading

(Michael's PoV)

I stumbled through the front door of my house. It was difficult to open the door with my clumsy fingers, because everything was swirling around. Maybe I shouldn't have smoked so much.

_Oh well. Who cares?_

_I know that nobody cares about me._

_My classmates don't care. My teachers don't care. My family doesn't care._

_My_ mother _sure as hell doesn't care._

I remembered the night she left. Her screams rang in my ears. _Why can't I have a normal, happy child?! Why does he smoke and have splotches all over his skin?! Why is he depressed?! Why does he self harm?! This isn't the child I wanted!_

They didn't think I was listening. Or maybe they did, and just didn't care.

 I was in the beginning of junior year. I was in my room, emailing a guy who could hook me up with some crystal Pepsi. I used to love outdated drinks like that.

Then she started to yell, so I had headed downstairs. I only made it to see her slam the door.

She left me and my father alone. I haven't heard from her since.

From then I started to smoke more. I stopped talking to people. I just kind of faded away.

The only time I talked to anyone after that was when Rich Goranski told me about some kid who fell out of a tree. That was the only time I became interested in anything other than nothing. It was the only time since she left that I felt anything about anything else.

And then there was this kid, Jeremy. He was probably new. Either that, or I really don't believe in anything anymore. He looked like an okay guy, but I couldn't be friends with him.

Dustin Cropp once told me that I wasn't good enough to exist or be friends with anyone because I was so ugly. I think that's when I started cutting.

 

I staggered into the bathroom and sat in front of the toilet, vomiting my guts out into it. After a few hurls and a lot of dry heaving, I wiped my face with a towel and looked in the mirror.

_So ugly._

I stared at the light tan splotches littering my face and neck. I sighed and pulled my sweatshirt over my head. Putting it down, I glanced at my forearm and the scars that joined the splotches of lighter skin.

_So fucking ugly._

I opened the drawer under the sink and pulled out a razor. I felt a tear run down my face as I drew the razor over my skin, watching the blade cut right through it. 

It felt like I was cutting my bad thoughts away. The relief felt... so good.

_This is so bad for me. I should stop._

I didn't stop until the razor, the counter, and my arms were covered with blood. I felt lightheaded, like I was going to black out or something.

 _Don't pass out,_ I thought. _Whatever you do, don't pass out._

I pushed myself up slowly, wincing at the pain. I quickly found a rag to clean up the mess I had made and some bandages as well. I cleaned up the mess I made. Everything I do makes a mess.

I walked out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, crashing down onto my bed. The tears ran a lot faster now. I closed my eyes and let the world fade away.

 

"Get up, Micha!"

I groaned and rolled out of bed. I realized I still had yesterday's clothes on, so I changed and went to the bathroom to retrieve my hoodie. I picked it up to see that it was covered in blood.

 _Shit. I guess I'll have to wash it_.

 I snuck into the laundry room and shoved my sweatshirt into the washer and turned it on, then ran back upstairs to my room. I put on a long sleeved shirt, making sure to hide the bandages. Then I walked downstairs.

My dad chuckled when he saw me. "Where's your sweatshirt?" he asked curiously.

"It's dirty."

He raised an eyebrow. "Have a good day, son," he said skeptically. I grabbed my backpack and raced out the door. "Don't smoke anything!"

_I probably will._

I got into my PT cruiser and drove to school.

**(Time skip brought to you by: _Oxi Clean... gets the tough stains out!_ )**

Third period: Chemistry. I walked to my seat and sat, ducking my head.

More students began to filter in, including one specific person that caught my eye.

Jeremy.

He walked up to the teacher and they exchanged a few words before the teacher cleared her throat. "Today we will get our last new lab partners, and a new seating arrangement."

The entire class groaned as she started to list off new partners. "Brooke, you're with Richard. Jake, you're with Christine. Dustin, Jenna..." She continued to speak until there were only a few names left. "Michael..." she said. I looked up at my name. "Hm... I'll put you with Jeremy."

Our eyes met. I sighed.

_This is going to be difficult._ _Why did I get put with Jeremy of all people?_

He smiled and gave a little wave. I looked away.

Our teacher spoke again. "You will be seated next to your partner, but other than that, you may sit where you like. Today we'll discuss ionic, covalent, and metallic bonds..." She launched into a lecture about the periodic table as everyone found a new seat.

Jeremy sat next to me and said, "Hey."

"Hey," I said, refusing to meet his eyes.

His blue irises flickered over my face and neck again, then down my body. He stared at my hands for a minute and I fiercely wished I had pockets. I crossed my arms, insecure, and muttered, "Never seen vitiligo before, have you?"

He realized he had been staring and looked away, embarrassed. "Sorry," he mumbled. 

"Michael? Hello?" The teachers voice caused me to look up at her.

"What?" I said.

"I asked you, what two types of atoms form a covalent bond?" She looked annoyed.

 _Shit_.

"Oh." I stumbled over my words. "Met— I mean nonmetal-nonmetal. Two of the same." She didn't look very happy. "Right?"

I heard a voice behind me say quietly, "That's what he likes... two of the same."

Another voice. "Faggot."

I felt my face grow red with anger and embarrassment. I turned around. "What the fuck?" I hissed. "Mind your own goddamn business."

The boy who called me faggot laughed. He turned to his buddy and said, "Aw, look, he defensive, poor boy."

I flipped him off and turned around. "Fuck you," I said.

I shouldn't have done that.

"Michael!" My teacher exclaimed, and I heard snickers and laughter behind me. "Detention. Stay for lunch."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine."

"What happened?" Jeremy's voice in my ear.

I didn't want to tell him what they said. I would have to explain to him that I was gay, and that wasn't something I wanted to do just then.

Thankfully, the bell rang. Everyone moved out of the classroom except me, because detention.

I watched as Jeremy grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, and as he turned to leave, I noticed something on his backpack.

In black, sloppy letters, the word _boyf_ was scrawled out on the red fabric. I studied it for a minute as he walked toward the door.

_Boyf? What does that even..._

_Oh my god._

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of suicide attempt

(Jeremy's PoV)

I walked slowly into the lunchroom, searching around for a particular person in it. I smiled when I saw them, and walked over to join them at their table.

"Hey, Jer!" Christine said brightly, grinning as I sat down next to her.

"Hey, Chris," I said, matching her smile. "I was gonna ask you something..."

"Okay," she said, putting her hands together.

"So," I said, fidgeting slightly with the straps of my backpack, "I was thinking earlier..."

"What do you wanna know?" Christine said, reading my expression quickly.

"Everything you know about Michael Mell." I looked into her black eyes and the confusion that resided there. "Everything."

She looked surprised. "Oh." Looking around, she said, "Do you have him third period? Is that why?"

I slowly nodded, fidgeting some more.

"Well, you're in luck, babe, because I know everything you need to know about that specific boy." I blushed furiously at the word _babe_.

"Okay, so...?" I prompted her, embarrassed to say anything else.

She started to rattle off all the facts she knew about him. "He never had any really good friends in elementary or middle school, so he doesn't have very good conversational skills. He smokes pot, and, when he's high, he's very defensive and will blow up or break down at the slightest aggressive comment."

"Okay," I said, nodding. _She must know a lot about Michael._ She gave me his phone number. And his birthday, which was only a few weeks away.

"He did get pretty good grades in sophomore year, it's just then that junior year came and they slipped. He's got anxiety, and sometimes, he self-harms."

He _what_?

"Why don't you try to help him?" I said, shocked.

"He doesn't want it. Blow up, break down, or both." She shrugged.

"Continue." I nodded.

"His favorite artist is Bob Marley, and he loves discontinued, outdated drinks like Crystal Pepsi and Mountain Dew Red." She sighed. "I never understood his old school personality."

"I've never heard of Bob Marley." I watched her eyes fill with shock.

"You're a sinner."

"Just keep going," I laughed.

"As you know, he has vitiligo. It only just recently stopped spreading."

I recalled the splashes of lighter color that covered his face and neck. "I think it's beauti-- I mean it looks pretty cool." I stumbled over my words, scratching the back of my neck when I slipped up.

_What was I going to say? Beautiful?_

_That doesn't make any sense._

"He thinks it looks ugly. He got bullied for it." Christine continued on. "And that hoodie he always wears-- he loves it."

 _He wasn't wearing it today._ "But--" I was about to voice my thoughts when she cut me off.

"Every year, he gets a new patch on it. Last year, he got, like, a gay pride patch or something."

"What?" _He's gay?_

"Yeah. And just last year, his mother divorced his father and left to live in Colorado," she said, nodding slowly as if confirming her own thoughts. "He got really depressed after that. Like, _really_ depressed."

"How depressed?" I asked curiously. She leaned close to me.

"He tried to commit suicide this year."

_Oh my god._

"Rich found him in the locker rooms, bleeding and barely alive. He called his coach over and they called and ambulance, and the nurses saved him. And now everyone is afraid to talk to him, 'cause they're worried that they might set him off or something."

"Did he really try to kill himself?" I whispered. Christine nodded in confirmation.

_Why would anyone do that?_

_I need to talk to him._

"I can't remember the last time he laughed," Christine said quietly.

"I-I-I have to go." I stood up abruptly and started to walk towards the doors leading out of the lunchroom.

"W-wait! Jeremy!"

I ignored her and walked as fast as I could to the chemistry classroom. Before I got there, though, the door opened and Michael walked out. He turned my way and our eyes met.

I marveled over the soft splashes of light color that littered his face and neck. He noticed me staring and looked away, clearing his throat gently and blushing with embarrassment. "I hate this school," he muttered under his breath.

"Hey," I said uncomfortably. "I wanted to talk to you."

His dark chocolate eyes stared into my blue ones for a second, sensing the discomfort there. "About what?" he asked hesitantly.

"D-did you really... Um, I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?"

I opened my mouth and close it a few times. Finally I managed, "D-d-did you really try, um, to, uh..." My voice dwindled.

Michael looked really worried, like not about me, but, like, about my sanity. "Try to what?"

"Kill yourself," I forced out. "Did you t-t-try to commit suicide?"

Shock flooded over his expression for a moment, and he stood there, speechless. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, and when his voice came back, all he could say was, "O-oh." His gaze then became sad and confused and flustered. "I-I-I..." he stuttered, biting his lip. "I-I..."

I noticed that tears were starting to gather in his eyes. _Oh no,_ I thought. _What do I do?_ I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"It's fine," he whispered shakily, a few tears running down his face. A few minutes of silence passed, and then he suddenly covered his face with his hands and started to sob quietly. _He's not angry,_ I thought with a flicker of hope. _He didn't smoke today. Maybe I can help him._

I put my arms around him gently, hesitantly, and he wrapped his around me, holding on tight. He started to cry into my shirt, continuing to squeeze every ounce of breath out of my lungs. "Shh," I whispered, rubbing his back in circles. "Shh, it's okay."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," I said, trying to comfort him.

After a little while, the sobs stopped and he pulled away from me slowly, crossing his arms insecurely.

He laughed quietly to himself and mumbled, "You're so stupid and ugly." He tried not to let me hear, but I did.

"Hey." I grabbed his arm. "You're not ugly. You're beautiful just the way you are." 

He stared at me, contemplating for a second, and then giggled a bit. "That sounded really gay."

"I-I-I th-that's not what I meant! You know that!" I blushed furiously and looked away. He smiled the first time I saw him for the first time that day and let out a small laugh. A genuine one.

The bell rang, leaving us standing awkwardly in the hallway.

 I said, "What's your fourth?"

"Period? Oh um, computer science," He said looking around. "I gotta go, it's on the other side of the school." He turned around and walked off. The last thing I saw was the back of his backpack.

And what was written on it.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: suicide attempt/self harm, homophobic f slur

(Michael’s PoV)

_I felt so alone._

_Mom just walked out on me and my dad after yelling at him that I was ugly. My own mother thought I was ugly._

_I was at a football game. The last of the season. My dad had left to go to the bathroom, but when I got up to follow him, I was shoved to the ground. "Loser," I heard someone say behind me. "Fag." I tried to get up. "You should just kill yourself, you ugly bitch. Not like anyone would notice."_

_The worst thing was, they were right._

_I felt tears running down my cheeks as I got up and ran away from them. I needed somewhere to hide. The locker rooms seemed like the best place to be._

_I saw that someone had left a pocketknife in there. Perfect._

_Using the small blade, I began to draw lines in the blotchy skin of my arm. It hurt, but it was relieving. I slit my wrists and watched blood pour out of them._

_I sighed and wiped my face, blood mixing with tears. I would have continued, but suddenly my energy drained and the knife fell out of my hands, making a loud clattering noise on the ground. The last thing I felt was my head hitting the ground painfully before everything went black._

_"Michael!" Rich's voice brought me out of my stupor slightly. "Oh my god, Mich— JAKE! Help! Please." He started to cry. "Please don't die, Michael."_

_"Rich, what—" Jake's voice. "Oh my fucking god."_

_"Get help! Please!" Rich sounded frantic._

_"Coach!" Jake called, panic soon leaking into his voice as well._

_I heard footsteps walk into the area. I heard a man's voice say, "God, Jake, what do you want? It's only half— Oh my god."_

_The footsteps sped up and I felt my body being lifted gently. "Richard, call an ambulance. Jake, can you get the first aid kit?"  The hands pulled off my shirt._

_After a moment of nothing, I felt my arms being bandaged and cleaned. An ice pack was put under my head._

_I heard Rich's shaky voice say, "They said they'll be here in five minutes." He seemed to get closer to me. "Hang in there, bud," he whispered._

_I let everything fade away again._

 

 

 

_"Hey. You." I opened my eyes to see a very white room. Standing over me were two boys. One was tall and thin, wearing all black. He had chin length chocolate hair and his nails were painted black. The other boy was shorter, with short brown hair and glasses. His arms were crossed and he looked mildly bored._

_"Oh," the shorter one commented. "He's not dead."_

_"Shut it, Kleinman," the taller one hissed._

_"Um, hello? You dragged me here to check on your gay lover because he fell out of a fucking tree for the second time. And you said we couldn't even go bathbomb shopping after that, so I can't even have a little fun?"_

_"We're not dating!"_

_"Um, I'm sorry," I slurred, blinking to make sure they were real. "I think you're in the wrong room."_

_"Look, Murphy, You woke him up." The shorter one, supposedly Kleinman, crossed his arms._

_"Can we not talk about me please?" I whispered._

_The taller one turned to me, his eyes flickering down my body before back to my face. "We're here for a guy named Evan—"_

_"Your lover—"_

_"—he broke his arm falling out of a tree. Again." The shorter boy pointed across the room to a blonde-haired boy with his arm in a cast that was stirring. The taller boy raced over to Evan and clasped their hands together. Evan opened his eyes and mumbled, "Hey, Con..."_

_"Um," I started awkwardly, "can I have your names?"_

_"Sure!" the short one said. "I'm the insanely cool Jared Kleinman, the school shooter-lookin' guy—" he received a glare from the taller boy— "I'm just kidding— is Connor Murphy, and the kid with a cast is Evan Hansen."_

_"Kleinman," the taller one cautioned. "You're scaring him."_

_"I'm scaring him?! Being in the room with you is probably scaring him!" the insanely cool Jared Kleinman retorted._

_"You—" I let their arguing flow over me as background noise, closing my eyes and drifting off into a deep sleep._

**(Time jump back to the present brought to you by: GIECO: fifteen minutes can save you fifteen percent or more on car insurance.)**

I walked slowly away from Jeremy, thoughts and memories racing through my head. But I was sure of one thing all the while: I was not going to smoke that day.

I would be fine without it.

_Smoking is bad for me anyway._

I sped up, heading towards my computer science class. I was looking at the ground and wasn't paying attention. I was almost there when I suddenly crashed into someone and fell to the ground.

"Ohmygosh! Fern, I'm so sorry! I-I-I didn't seeyouthereandIjust—" he stuttered.

"It's okay," I mumbled, staring at the ground as I picked myself up. I looked up at the person I crashed into and inhaled with surprise. He had blonde hair and a blue striped shirt, and there was a cast on his arm. He looked familiar, but where had I seen him?

"You look famil—"

"Evan! Get your gay ass over here!"

"Um," he said, "I, uh, have to go, soI'lljustseeyoulatersobye."

He walked over to the person who called him, a brown haired dude with glasses. There were a couple of girls over there, and a tall guy with chin-length chocolate hair.

"Wait!" I said. "I know where I've seen you before."

"Where?" he asked hesitantly.

"You're Evan Hansen, right?"

**(Time Skip brought to you by Nike: Just Do It)**

(Jeremy's PoV)

I was almost in tears as I walked home. _I can't believe I asked Michael that question. I'm so insensitive._

_Maybe I should call and apologize._

I pulled out my phone and entered his number into it. With shaky fingers I pressed call and waited a few moments before a voice on the other end said, "Hello?"

"Hey... it's Jeremy."

"Oh! Hey, how did you get my—"

"That's not important," I interrupted. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for today."

Silence. "Oh. It's fine."

"And, uh..." An idea came to me.

"Jeremy? Hello?"

I bit back a smile. "Do you wanna come over?" 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter :(

(Michael's PoV)

"Do you wanna come over?" The voice on the other line asked hesitantly.

I felt my heart swell with an unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling at those five words. It felt amazing.

_Am I high again?_

_Probably. Better agree, just in case I'm not._

"Uh, s-sure," I stuttered. "I-if you give me your address I can drive over."

"Great!" Jeremy sounded excited. He gave me his address and I gasped. "That's the street parallel to mine!"

"Awesome! See you soon." He hung up and I raced out to my old P.T. Cruiser and started it up, too lazy to walk.

**(Small Time Skip brought to you by Rich's adorable lisp)**

I walked up to his door and dang the doorbell with shaky fingers. I wasn't sure why, but there was this knot in my stomach and I felt unbelievably nervous.

The door opened to reveal Jeremy, who smiled when he saw me. "Hey," he said brightly. "Come on in."

"What do you wanna do?" I asked, walking into the house.

"Um... how about video games?" the taller boy said hesitantly, glancing towards a closed door. Probably his room.

"What do you like to play?" I asked.

He looked down, blushing. "Apocalypse of the Damned."

_Really? Is that embarrassing?_

"Me too," I said quietly. He grinned. "Really?"

I nodded.

He seemed to come up with an idea. "Can I invite a few others over?" he asked.

"Um..." I mumbled. 

_Is that okay?_

_It's not really my choice._

I nodded and said convincingly, "It's fine. Invite whoever you want."

He grinned. "I'll call them." He pointed to the closed door. "That's my room. Can you set up the game while I'm on the phone?"

I nodded.

He dialed some unknown numbers while I set up the game.

A minute later, he came in with a big smile. "They said they'll be over in a few minutes."

 _Okay_. I grabbed a console. "Great. Let's do a one-on-one."

We flopped down onto a couple of cushions on the floor and began to play the old video game. I quickly discovered I was much better than him at this game. I turned to look at his face, which was scrunched up in intense concentration. He didn't seem to notice me coming up with an evil plan next to him.

_If I just startled him a little bit..._

I reached out and poked him in the face. He flinched in surprise. I took that opportunity to press a button on my controller to shoot and kill his player. 

"Son of a—" He turned to me, playful anger written all over his freckled face. "I can't believe you just—"

"I won," I said triumphantly. A smirk found its way onto my lips. "You lost."

He punched me lightly. "You cheated."

"No." I returned the gesture. "I used an advantage." I punched him again. And again. 

"I swear to God, if you do that again—" he threatened playfully.

"You'll what?" I challenged, punching him again.

"I'll—" He hesitated. "I'll..." His voice lowered. "I'll tickle you."

"You wouldn't," I said, only slightly worried about wether it was true or not. I brought my hand back, waving it slightly.

"Oh yeah?" he questioned.

"Yeah." I punched him again.

Big mistake.

He put his hands under my arms. "W-wait! I'm sorry!" I cried out, regretting my actions immediately. "I'll stop, I'll stop, I promise!"

"Too late, Michael."

I let out an involuntary laugh as he started to move his fingers quickly, tickling my sides.

"Pff-Jer—ha—st-stop! P-please!" I laughed, rolling away from him.

"Oh no you don't," Jeremy said evilly. He then promptly sat on me, effectively pinning me to the ground, and continued to tickle me. 

"P-please! I-I'll—ha—do anything!" I screamed, uncontrolled giggles leaving my mouth.

He didn't stop, even when my chest was heaving and I had lost any hope of breathing properly, sobs of laughter pushing out of me.

Then the door opened.

There were three people standing on the other side of the door. 

Jeremy and I froze. It was then that we realized that we had frozen in the most awkward position. He was on top of me, his legs on either side of mine. One of his hands had pinned both of mine to the ground while the other was touching my side. And when the door opened, I felt unable to move at the sight of those three people standing there.

We watched in silence as the shortest one stepped forward, pushing up his glasses with a smirk on his face.

"Kinky."

 


	6. Chapter 6

(Jeremy's PoV)

"Kinky," Jared said loudly, smirking. I felt my face grow hot as I realized the position Jeremy and I were in. I looked down to see how badly Michael was blushing.

He looked like a fucking tomato, and he was breathing heavily. Probably because I was sitting on him. It's kind of hard to breathe when you are being sat on.

I got off of him awkwardly and faced the trio, embarrassed and flustered. "What took you so long?"

"Murphy was kind of busy fucking Evan when you called, so..."

"I was not!" Connor scowled. "I was..." He thought for a second, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Smoking."

"I was doing homework," Evan mumbled.

"Sure," Jared said sarcastically. He laughed when both of them blushed a deep red with embarrassment. "And what were you doing, Heere?"

Michael stood up, trying to regain some breath. "He... was..."

"I tickled him. He cheated at AotD."

"...did not," Michael insisted, pointing at me. "Advantage." He seemed to recover from my wrath a bit, and started to breathe more normally. "We did a one-on-one while we waited for you, and I won. He wasn't too happy about that." He grinned.

"By _won_ , he means _cheated_ ," I muttered.

"Did not..."

"You guys are, um,  _really_ cute together," Evan said, smiling. "When did you meet?"

I felt my face turn red. Again. I looked over at Michael and he looked just how I felt. "A-actually," I stuttered, "I have a girlfriend."

"And I met him when I was high," Michael mumbled shamefully staring at the carpet. Oh.

_That explains why he was so angry, but only for that one day. Every other day he's just... antisocial._

"We met just the other day—" I began.

"I walked in on him making out with _Christine_ , of all people. Ugh." He shuddered, disgusted. Jared let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth as he did so.

"Pfft— for real? _Christine?!_  You could have done so much better!"

"Hey, what's wrong with Christine?" I said, a bit defensively.

"Nothing's wrong with her," Connor put in, "it's just that some people don't like her."

"Like me," Michael and Jared said in unison.

"That was the first breakdown I'd had in a long time," Michael said bitterly to himself, but I didn't hear him say it.

"W-why don't you like her?" I asked incredulously. "She's--"

"Annoying, rude, and brash," Jared deadpanned.

"She doesn't ever stay on topic for more than five minutes," Connor put in.

Michael looked at the ground. "She doesn't stop asking questions." He sat on the floor, with the pillow behind his head. He leaned backwards, closing his eyes. "She always assumes I'm high, or just don't care anymore."

Oh.

"She won't let up on all of the constant talking, so I guess I just eventually grew to hate her," Connor said angrily. "Michael?" he suddenly said, kneeling down so he was next to the shorter boy. Michael's chest rose and fell evenly, signifying that he was asleep. He didn't stir or open his eyes when his name was mentioned.

"I guess he's staying over," I said, an involuntary smile making its way onto my face. 

"Maybe w-we should just go," Evan said, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Jared nodded in agreement.

"But we didn't even do any--"

"That's okay," Connor interrupted. "It's getting late anyway."

"Since when do you care?" asked Jared, smirking.

"It doesn't matter," Evan said. "Let's just go. See you, Jer," he said to me.

"Oh, Evan... I knew it! You just want to get lai--"

"Bye," I said, embarrassed. They left the house.

I watched Michael sleep, and a sense of peace settled over me. He looked so peaceful and content when his eyes were closed.

I gently picked him up bridal style and carried him over to my bed, setting him down gently onto it and sitting next to him. I got up to leave, but then he whispered, "Stay."

So I lay down next to him and watched his chest rise and fall. He seemed to feel my presence and wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my shirt.

_Well, this is awkward._

But after a few moments, the uncomfortable, awkward feeling dissolved into a warm, happy one. I returned the gesture, wrapping my arms around him.

_Is this what cuddling feels like?_

_In that case, it's not half bad. Even with a guy._

I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep next to my new friend.

 

(Michael's PoV)

I opened my eyes to see the blurry colors of my only friend's shirt in my face and the feeling of warm arms wrapped around my torso. 

_Oh, shit._

I felt my face heat up and I pulled away from him. 

_Is that really what happened last night?_

I sat up and patted around the bed for my glasses, waking up the blob next to me in the process.

"What time is it?" the blob mumbled sleepily, rolling over.

"God, Jeremy, I don't know. I need my glasses to see the time," I responded, stumbling out of bed.

"Oh," the blob said. "They're on the nightstand."

I reached out to the bigger, squarish maroon blob next to the bed and felt the lenses of my glasses. Relieved, I put them on and watched the blobs come into shape around me.

Jeremy was sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "Why did you wake me up so early?" he complained. "School isn't until--"

"This is when I usually wake up," I explained. "My dad—"

Jeremy lay back down and closed his eyes again.

_I need to wake him up somehow._

"Hey, Jer," I said casually, only slightly curious in truth, "what happened after I fell asleep last night?"

He stared at me, his face slowly growing red. "Um," he said, clearly flustered, "n-nothing."

_Damn it. Now I actually want to know._

"Liar." I made sure to make it sound as accusing as possible.

"I-um, put you in bed and left." He was getting more stressed out by the moment.

"I don't believe you," I said smirking and crossing my arms.

"IputyouinbedandthenyoutoldmetostaysoIdid," he mumbled.

"What?" I said.

"You fell asleep on the floor so I put you in bed." I believed that.

"And?" I prompted.

He blushed again. "I-I was going to go sleep on the couch, but... uh, you asked me to, um, stay, so I did."

_I didn't think he would actually tell me._

I felt my face warm up as well. Unfortunately for me, the big discolored blotched on my face make it virtually impossible to hide a blush.

"And then what happened?" I asked, curious but also cautious.

"Well..."


	7. Chapter 7

(Michael's PoV)

"Well..."

I crossed my arms and watched him fidget, pulling on his fingers and picking at his fingernails. His gaze never left his hands as he said, almost inaudibly, "You hugged me. In your sleep."

_Okay..._

"Why was that so hard for you to say?" I asked skeptically, raising one eyebrow.

"Because--because it was..." His face had gone from a bright red to a dark maroon color and he had started to breathe a little faster.

"What?" I asked hesitantly, slightly worried for his health.

_Is he okay? He doesn't look okay._

"I-It was, um... intimate," he finished. His face was now an even darker red with embarrassment and he was hyperventilating.

_Is he going to pass out? That color can't be healthy._

"So?" I said, pretending to be uncaring. "Intimacy was the reason you freaked out?"

 _Intimacy. I would have freaked out too._ I could feel myself growing a little flustered.

_I can't tell him that. Calm down._

"Yeah," he admitted. 

"Well, you look like you're about to have a fucking panic attack, so I suggest you calm down. I'm not good with panic attacks. If you have a panic attack, I'm going to have a panic attack. So don't have a panic attack." I realized I was rambling and shut my mouth, blushing lightly.

Jeremy laughed, and I could visibly see his shoulders relax. "Okay, okay," he said. "No panic attacks." He ran a hand through his hair.

His hair was a mess and he looked like he was about to fall back asleep. "Go shower," I nagged, knowing that showers would always wake me up in the morning. "You have school in an hour. You can't just go looking like _that._ "

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, mom." He stood up and walked out of his bedroom door.

I sighed. _Now what do I do while I wait?_

**(Time skip brought to you by: Capital One-- What's in _your_ wallet?)**

About half an hour later, Jeremy returned.

"Hey--" I said, looking up from the book I had found under his bed-- and stopped.

He wasn't wearing anything but a towel that was wrapped around his waist.

I felt my face grow warm as my eyes instinctively flickered up and down his body, at some point lingering on his chest and hips. Then I realized what I was doing and stared at the floor. "W-who takes a half hour to shower anyway?" I managed to choke out, my face growing even redder as I spoke.

_Fuck._

"Are you okay?" he asked obliviously, sitting next to me. I felt his weight next to me compress the side of the bed slightly and clenched my fists. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," I forced out. _No, I'm not._

"Are you sure?"

_No._

"Yes," I said, nodding slowly. "I'm okay."

He nodded, grabbing some clothes, and left the room. "Be right back," he called through the door. 

"Okay," I responded, thinking about... things.

A few minutes later, he came back fully clothed. He slipped on a navy jacket, not bothering to zip it up. I didn't notice, as I was staring off into space, still thinking about... things.

"Hello?" Jeremy said, waving a hand in front of my face.

I snapped out of my trance a bit and looked at the clock. "It's time to go," I said absentmindedly, standing up. "We have to get things from my house."

_Thank god I'm not turned on._

We drove to my house in Jeremy's car and I went into my house, calling to my dad, "I'm home!" from my room.

"Where were you?" he asked, walking in and crossing his arms. He looked mad.

"At a friend's house," I answered, pulling off my shirt. I felt his eyes burning the recent scars on my forearms and the bandages partly covering them.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing at a particularly deep scratch.

"I scratched my arm on a bush," I said vaguely, remembering the day earlier that week that the scratch was formed. I pulled on a new shirt, making sure that it had long sleeves.

"That's not true," he said, frowning. "Michael, we talked about this. Were you actually at a friend's house?"

"Yes," I said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Did they hurt you?" My father asked, digging deeper into emotional cuts that hadn't healed fully yet. "Did they make you uncomfortable?"

"No," I answered. "Now can you please leave so I can change?"

My dad's eyebrows lowered. Then he walked out.

 _Why does he dig so deep?_ I wondered, changing into a fresh pair of sweats. I ran down to the laundry room to see that my sweatshirt had dried, so I put it on, smiling at the familiarity of the old fabric. I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door, not bothering to eat anything.

"Hey," I said, hopping into the passenger seat. "We can go now."

His gaze flickered over my face and neck like it always seemed to, then to my sweatshirt, where he closely studied the patches there. He lingered upon the rainbow patch on my left bicep, his mouth forming a tiny "oh" before continuing to look over the red jacket.

"We can go now," I said again, gently. He turned back to the wheel and started up the car.

**(Time skip brought to you by: Nationwide is on your side... today)**

Jeremy parked the car and we got out of it. "What's your first class?" I asked.

He sighed. "Math."

"That sucks."

We walked through the lobby and the hallway.

"Jeremy! I was looking for you!" I heard footsteps behind us and turned around to look.

Christine ran up to Jeremy and planted a huge, wet kiss on his cheek. I cringed and looked away, seeing someone else come up to us while the couple next to me conversed.

Jared.

He had a smirk on his face as he came up to the three of us.

"Hey, Jeremy," he said casually. "How was last night?"

I felt my face heat up, and when I turned to Jeremy, he looked the same as I felt.

"Night?" Christine said, confused. "What night?"

Jared ignored her. He turned to me and shrugged like it was no big deal. "Did you guys fuck, or..."

I felt my face grow an even deeper shade of red and stared at the ground. Jeremy did the same.

"Oh my god," Jared said gleefully. "You did! How was it? Did he—"

"What are you talking about?" Christine asked.

"Now just wait a second—" Jeremy began.

"Did you top?" Jared asked, rubbing his hands together.

"But—" Christine started.

Their arguing overlapped and I felt myself quickly getting overwhelmed. My stomach hurt and I felt lightheaded.

Long story short, their arguing wasn't helpful.

My breathing sped up as the constant noise continued. It drowned out my thoughts and the pounding in my head increased.

Then I lost it. Just snapped.

"Would you all just SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

 

They all turned to me, shocked.

"I just wanna know what happened," Christine said quietly.

"I just wanna know how the sex was," Jared said, smirking.

"I just wanna tell them what really happened," Jeremy finished. He turned to Jared. "I never had sex with anyone last night." Jared opened his mouth to speak but Jeremy cut him off. "Or this morning." Jared sighed, defeated.

Jeremy then turned to Christine, whose mouth was open at the mention of sex. "I invited Michael and some others over last night," he explained calmly to her. She nodded quickly.

He then turned to me. "Are you okay?"

My stomach hurt, I was having considerable trouble breathing, and I was lightheaded. Nevertheless, I nodded slowly.

"Great," Jeremy said. "I'm going to go to class now."

I nodded and turned the other way. I took a few steps when I heard my knees buckle and I crashed to the ground. Pain exploded in the back of my head and I groaned. "Fuck, that kind of hurt."

The last thing I heard was Jeremy's voice yelling, "Michael? Are you okay?" and footsteps coming toward me.

I sighed and closed my eyes, becoming oblivious to the world around me.

 

(Jeremy's PoV)

Michael took a few steps away from me before he tripped and fell hitting his head on the floor. I ran over to him. "Michael? Are you okay?" I said, lifting his head. I noticed that there was blood on the floor, and my heart sank.

 _Shit_.

His eyelids fluttered, then fell shut.

"C'mon, Michael, you're gonna be fine," I said, lifting him gently. I carried him bridal style all the way to the nurse's office, only getting a few stares.

When I got there, I set him down and called out for a nurse.

She came out quickly and said, "What's wrong?"

As briefly as I could, I explained the situation. "He's bleeding, too."

"Okay." She looked him over, feeling his pulse and swabbing his mouth and other things that nurses do. Then she turned to me. "He's gonna be fine."

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, wiping my eyes. I was surprised to feel that they were wet with tears.

"He's just dehydrated, combined with... maybe an anxiety attack? And you said he hit his head on the floor. So that's why he's unconscious." The nurse pointed at the door. "Be right back," she said.

I walked over to the bed Michael was on and put both of my hands on it. "I'm sorry I yelled," I said, running my hands over the fabric of his jacket. I touched his rainbow patch, caressing it gently with my fingers.

"Oh my god!" a voice said behind me. "I didn't know you were dating." 

I heard the sound of a camera shutter clicking.

 _Fuck_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: fucked up dream

(Jeremy's PoV)

I spun around to see who was there.

Christine and Chloe. Chloe had a camera in her hand and was holding it up. Christine looked shocked.

"That's so gay, Jerry," Chloe said, grinning. "Just wait until I show the _whole school._  Maybe next time don't cheat on my BFF here." She gestured to the girl next to her.

"B-but I'm not gay," I said. "He collapsed and I brought him here."

She took a couple steps toward me, showing me the camera. On the screen, a picture depicted me with my hand on Michael's shoulder. "This looks very gay to me," she insisted. "You might as well be sucking his--"

"Stop!" I said, both flustered and annoyed. "This is blackmail. What do you want?"

"I want you to stay away from Michael," Christine said suddenly, though she was staring off into space.

"But-- I can't just--"

"Yes, you can," Chloe said, smirking. "He was just fine without you before. He doesn't need you now. You're not important to him."

Michael stirred, rolling over. I glanced over at him reflexively. He was still asleep, but...

He looked terrified.

"No," he whispered in his sleep, sounding sad and frightened. "Go away. I don't need you."

I felt as if I had been stabbed in the chest. "B-but--" _He doesn't care?_

Then I recalled Christine's words to Michael.

_You don't care._

The last time she said that, he was high and had had a breakdown.

_She was wrong last time. She could be wrong this time too._

"Don't worry," Christine said sympathetically, putting her hand on my shoulder. "I'll always be here for you." 

_Why would you be here for me? Your friend just told me to stay away from my—_

_My what?_

_Friend? Best friend? Only friend?_

_I have other friends._

_Boyf—_

"I'll still be your girlfriend, even." Christine smiled at me, clasping her hands together.

"What if that's not what I want?"

The words just suddenly flew out of my mouth. I immediately regretted it, but after a few moments, I realized that what I had said was true.

_I don't really like her that way anymore._

An expression of shock and pain flashed across Christine's face. "Oh," she said, emotionless. "Well, in that case, I'm just gonna leave." She pulled her hand away, as if she had been burned. I watched as she turned, tears in her eyes, and walked away.

Chloe didn't look any less shocked than Christine had. "What the actual _fuck!"_ she said, outraged. "Why did you do that?! She was so nice to you! She gave you information about Mich—" She stopped, her eyes widening. "Shit."

_Wait a second..._

"How does she know so much about Michael anyway?"

She crossed her arms. "It's none of your business. Fuck off," she said.

Michael stirred again. 

"Please," he whispered. "Leave me and my father alone."

I turned to him. "Shh, it's okay," I said comfortingly, running a hand through the white patch of hair on the left side of his head. I marveled over the lighter patch of hair and how it was comepletely natural. His hair was smooth and soft, fitting in between my fingers perfectly. (Hahahahahahaha... that's gay)

Chloe just stood there, fuming. "You know what? Fuck you, Jerry," she finally growled, and then stormed off.

_It's Jeremy._

I felt a small sense of relief accompany my annoyance until she called out behind from the hallway, "Those pictures are _so_  getting out!"

_Shit._

It wasn't helpful when I heard Jake's voice saying, "What pictures?" and then Chloe giving some really pissed off monologue about how I had _cheated_ on _Christine._

"It's all for that stoner guy, Michael or whatever his name is. You know, the one nobody knows exist because he's such a fucking loser? ...Yeah, I never took Jerry to be a homo."

I felt a knot of anger growing in my stomach. _What the hell? Why does everyone spread rumors?_

_Why can't we just be left alone?_

_I like girls._

_I've never had a crush on a guy in my whole life._

I left the nurses room, leaving Michael alone to go and follow Chloe.

She was standing around with Rich and Jake. They seemed to be arguing with her about something.

"Michael is a fucking freak, why'd anyone pick him over Christine?" Chloe said, waving the camera in front of their faces. "And Jerry just fucking dumped her because she told him to stay away from him! What part of that doesn't spell out GAY FUCKING LO—"

"It might be because Michael needs a friend," Rich said quietly. "He's not a freak. And Jeremy doesn't have to be gay."

"Yeah," Jake added. "He could be pansexual, or bisexual, or demi—"

"It doesn't matter what they are," Chloe interrupted, sounding annoyed. "The point is that it's wrong."

There was a long silence. Finally, Rich said emotionlessly, "It's wrong."

Chloe nodded.

"Then I guess it's wrong that me and Jake are dating, too?"

Chloe nodded, then realized her mistake. "N-no! I just meant that it's—"

"Okay," Jake said. "Come on, Rich, looks like we're not wanted here." They both started off in my direction, causing me to try to act inconspicuous.

"Hey, Jeremy," Rich called coldly, causing me to freeze. (Hah— see what I did there?)

Oh no.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Someone's spreading rumors about you, and her proof is very believable."

"Oh." I sighed in relief. "I'm not gay."

"Are you sure?" Rich asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. "In that picture, you look like you really like him."

"I'm not gay," I repeated. _Right?_

_Yeah._

_I like girls._

"You don't have to be," Jake said. "You could be pansexual, or bisexual, or demi—"

"Just— look at things in more than one perspective before coming to a conclusion," Rich said, shrugging.

"That's the deepest thing I've ever heard you say," Jake said smiling down at the shorter boy.

Rich grinned. "I can think of something that's been deeper."

"Ew, guys," I protested.

But I was also thinking about what Rich told me.

_What does he mean by different perspective?_

 

(Michael's PoV  **{You didn't think I was that nice, did you? Heheh}** )

"Hello, Michael," she whispered coyly, running her finger over my chest. "I'm back." Smiling, she traced the ropes tying me to the wall. "How have you been?"

"I-I hate you," I whispered, tears filling my eyes.

"You need me," she said, a smirk on her lips.

"No," I insisted. The tears began to fall. "I don't need you. Go away."

"You love me."

"You hurt me," I sobbed.

"Your father loves me." 

"Please," I whimpered. "Leave me and my father alone."

Then she snapped.

"You can't say that to your own mother."

"You're not my mother."

My heart went cold as she sat on the bed across the room. "You're a good-for-nothing slut," she said angrily. "You don't deserve a mother."

"No," I said quietly.

"I would have gotten an abortion if I knew how you were going to turn out." She came closer to me.

"Please," I whispered. "Don't touch me."     

She put her hand on my chest, letting her fingers drift over my stomach. "You're so ugly," she hissed.

_Please no. Fuck, please..._

"Stop," I whimpered.

I woke up, sweating and breathing heavily. 

I sat up, realizing I was alone.

_What happened?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, bullying, homophobic f slur

(Michael's PoV)

I sat up in the stiff white bed, contemplating what happened in the dream. Memories of junior year began to flash through my head. However, I couldn't remember anything that happened in the past hour.

 _I guess that proves I had a_ really _fucked up childhood_.

I looked around the room, confirming both that I was in the nurse's office and that I was alone.

I slid out of bed, and my head exploded with pain.

"Fuck," I whispered to myself. "That kinda hurt."

The pounding in my head didn't lessen as I walked slowly into the hallway. 

 _How did I get in there?_ I wondered.I shrugged and kept walking.

I stopped when I saw Jeremy. Talking to Rich and Jake. Jake was holding Rich's hand and Rich was saying something to Jeremy.

"...different perspective," Rich said, gesturing to Jake. Jake, in turn, smiled and said something to Rich, and Rich wiggled his eyebrows and said something else.

Jeremy's face turned red. "Guys," he choked out, staring at the ground.

Rich stood on his tiptoes and kissed Jake lightly on the cheek. Then both of them walked off.

Feeling a small surge of courage, I walked up to Jeremy.

_Wait._

_Why would I need courage?_

_Does Jeremy actually make me nervous?_

I shook it off. "Hey, Jeremy," I said calmly, standing in front of him.

He looked up, seeming surprised to see me. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes drifting up to the white patch of hair on the left side of my head. I quickly ran my hand through it, blushing with embarrassment and insecurity.

"Yeah," I responded, giving him a weird look. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "You collapsed in the hallway." Then he seemed to remember something and his face flushed red.

"And?" I prompted, seeing that that clearly wasn't all.

"N-nothing," he stuttered. I let him go with that.

I heard footsteps behind us and turned to see Jared.

"Hey," I said. "Do you know what happened? I can't remember what happened in the last hour."

He grinned. "Yeah, you were talking about how you and Jeremy had sex last night—"

"We did not have sex last night!" Jeremy protested, blushing harder.

"Sure," Jared said, smirking.

"After you left, all we did was sleep," Jeremy insisted.

 "Together," Jared muttered, snickering. 

"Jared, I swear to God—"

"Anyway, we started to argue, and then you screamed at all of us," Jared continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "After that you just fainted. Like a girl."

I felt my face grow hot as well.

"That's not all that happened—" Jeremy started.

"Shut up, yes it is." Jared seemed to remember something. "Then Jeremy picked you up and carried you— like a girl— to the nurse's office and started to do some really gay shit."

Jeremy looked at the ground. "Shut up," he mumbled. "I did not—"

"What did he do?" I asked curiously.

"He did things like run a hand through your hair, whisper shit to you, and—"

I turned to Jeremy, blushing. "Really?" I felt my mouth form a small smile and I bit it back.

He turned a darker shade of red. "N-no... I don't know what he's talking about." He started to fidget, pulling on his fingers and tugging on his shirt.

Liar.

"And then Chloe got pictures and is spreading them around the school." Jared pointed over to Chloe, who was talking animatedly to Jenna. "She's talking about how Jeremy cheated on her, and how she broke up with him."

"We didn't really... break up," Jeremy said slowly. "We just kind of... I don't know."

"Fell apart?" I said, shrugging. He nodded.

"Bullshit," Jared announced. "Christine was in tears."

Oh.

"Really?" I said quietly.

"Yes." I heard a voice behind me.

Christine.

"Can I talk to Michael for a second?" she said sweetly, smiling at me.

Why scared me was that her eyes weren't smiling, even if her mouth was.

**(Time jump to the past brought to you by Digorno: It's not just delivery, it's Digorno)**

_Eighth grade._

_My birthday._

_I had just told Christine everything I knew about me. My hobbies, bad habits, and music taste. (The best music taste in the world.) Everything._

_Well, except for one thing._

_We were laughing. Together. A rosy blush had appeared on her cheeks._

_Suddenly, she stopped laughing and looked at me, licking her lips nervously. "Michael?" she said nervously, fidgeting. "I need to tell you something."_

_"You can tell me anything, Chris," I assured her, a grin on my face._

_"I, um..." She took a deep breath. "I like you, Mikey."_

_"I like you too, Chris," I said, not understanding what she meant. "That's why we're friends, right?"_

_"No," she said, shaking her head. "I like you. Like, I've had a crush on you for years." She looked at me hopefully, a spark in her eye._

_Oh._

_Oh, no..._

_"I love everything about you, Mikey... I love your smile, and your laugh. I don't care that you have vitiligo, you're beautiful anyway. I've wanted to tell you this for a while, but I waited until..."_ _She must have seen my face fall, because she looked at me worriedly. "What's wrong, Mikey?" she asked quietly._

_"I'm sorry," I said, staring at the ground. "I'm so sorry."_

_"What is it?" she asked, panicking a bit._

_"I-it's just that..." How could I put this without hurting her?_

_I felt despair as I found that there was no way._

_"Christine, I'm gay."_

_I watched as shock poured over her features, then hurt. "Oh," she said._

_"I'm sorry!" I cried, as tears began to gather in her eyes. "I wish I was different, but..."_

_"I'm just gonna..." she gestured to her right and walked away._

_That was the day I came out to my parents._

_That was the day my mother started to come home drunk and scream at me._

_That was the day Christine started to hate me. She gave the next month of her life away just to make mine miserable._

 

_A day later I saw her talking to Chloe. She saw me and pointed over at me, continuing to talk, but not bothering to walk over and talk to me._

_She looked mad._

_The fact that I was gay spread around the school like the fire Rich set on Jake's house._

_I was harassed, bullied, and beat up._

 

_I specifically remember one particular day. It was April, soon after my birthday._

_"Faggot," Dustin Cropp said, pinning me up against the wall. "You're so ugly."_

_"Wait! Please—" I said hopelessly._

_He punched me in the stomach and I let out a cry of pain._

_"Already crying, huh?" He punched me again and again, until the groans and short cries of pain became screams of agony. Tears ran down my face as I begged him to stop, but he relentlessly hit me over and over again._

_He must have gotten bored, because he shoved me to the ground and stomped on my nose, breaking it and causing blood to spurt everywhere._

_"I hoped you liked that," he hissed, "because tomorrow you're getting a lot more."_

_Ugly._

_Unloved._

_Unwanted._

_I sat up, seeing that a crowd had gathered. Christine stepped forward._

_"That's how I feel every day," she said emotionlessly, staring at me._

_Then she disappeared._

**(Time jump back to the present brought to you by: Sonic: This is how we Sonic)**

"Well, Michael?" Christine said, snapping me out of my daze.

"Sorry, what?" I said, rubbing my forehead. "I didn't hear you."

"Are you coming?"

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of self harm

(Michael’s PoV)

I followed Christine out of the hallway and into the auditorium. My least favorite room in the world. 

She led me to the costume room and shut the door, turning around abruptly to face me.

"You like him, don't you?" She accused, squinting slightly and putting her hands on her hips.

The word _no_ sounded wrong.

Maybe because it was the wrong answer.

I tried to say no anyway.

"Uh-I-I-just-that-that-it-doesn't—" I stuttered.

"That's what I thought," she said. 

"So what?" I said defensively, a blush rising to my cheeks.

"It's not fair that both of the people I like don't love me back."

"Look," I started, "I can't help who I—"

"I loved you, Michael, and you broke my heart." She looked into my eyes sadly and I felt my stomach fill with guilt.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, looking at the ground.

"And now Jeremy." She looked like she was about to cry. "I was just starting to recover from your rejection when he asked me out. He was cute, so I accepted."

"But—"

"And that day when you... caught us, I asked him to go make sure you were okay." Christine looked angry at both me and herself.

"But you've hated me for years since eighth grade," I insisted. "Why would you care now?"

I already knew why she asked him, but I wanted to hear it out of her mouth.

_I wanted to make sure you didn't try to kill yourself while high, but I didn't want to see you._

I didn't get the answer I expected.

"I don't know, but that was the worst mistake in my life."

I felt like I was going to throw up. _"What?"_

"If I hadn't asked him to check on you, you would never have seen him again. I would get him to love me." She looked satisfied with her answer. "I wouldn't have been rejected."

Silence.

She seemed to realize what she had said. "Oh my god!" she said, waving her arms. "I meant—"

I felt tears gather in my eyes. "He'd never see me again— do you realize that might be because I'd be _dead?"_ I snarled the last word.

"I—"

"I _cut_ that day because of what you said to me," I said, tears slipping silently down my face. Angry tears.

_I shouldn't have told her that. She'll tell Chloe._

"I meant that you'd ignore him! I didn't mean—" she tried. She looked guilty now.

"He's good for me!" I shouted. "I haven't smoked _anything_ since I met him! I haven't done anything!"

"I don't care!" Her guilt was gone, replaced by anger.

"I know! You don't care! So why should you care that I like him?" I demanded, curling my hands into fists.

"I hate you!" she screamed.

"I know! You've hated me since eighth grade!" I was now screaming too. Thank god we were in the costume room, which had thick walls.

"I used to love you! You rejected me!" Her hands curled into fists as well.

"There's nothing wrong with loving someone else, Christine!" My voice hurt and I was tired of yelling at her, so I shut my mouth and uncurled my hands, forcing myself to relax.

I guess Christine wasn't done yelling.

"He'll never love you back, so why should you _take him away from me?!"_

Tears—furious tears— were running down her face too, and her chest was heaving as if she had been running.

_He'll never love you back._

_He'll never love you back._

_He'll never love_ me _back._

"He'd never accept you!" she screamed, more tears running down her face. "He's probably homophobic! He'd never talk to you again if you told him!"

I felt fresh tears gather in my eyes.

_No._

_He'd accept me._

"He'd leave! He'd avoid you!" she yelled. "Anything he wants to know about you, _I_ could tell him! Because I know _everything about you!"_

"No, you don't," I choked out.

"Really?" She questioned, checking her watch. "Your birthday is in four days.  You tried to commit suicide a few months ago. You have vitiligo, and you're super self-conscious about it."

I gritted my teeth. "Christine—"

"You hate it when people don't look you in the eyes when they're talking to you, but you don't mind when people start to tell you something, but then say 'never mind,' because you believe that everyone should only say what they want to," she said calmly.

 I was at a loss for words.

"You believe very strongly that nobody cares about you, you have ever since your mother left you simply because she thought you were worthless."

 _No_.

The tears came a lot more freely, and I decided the best idea was to curl up into a ball in the corner. I began to quietly sob in the corner.

"You're going to sit in your room at home for a couple hours today thinking about what I told you and hoping desperately that it isn't true. Then you sit for a few minutes contemplating whether to call him and tell him that you're gay, just to spite me. But in the end, you'll decide that it's not a good idea to do that, and go to bed." She sighed, as a signal that she was finished.

I didn't really care as I was busy sobbing quietly in the corner.

"You see, I do know everything about you."

_Jeremy will hate me._

_Christine hates me._

_Dad probably hates me._

_My mother hates me._

I rocked back and forth. "Mama used to love me," I whispered to myself, but Christine heard.

"What?" she said, sitting next to me.

"Mama loved me," I sobbed, burying my face in my knees.

**(Time jump to the past brought to you by: Allstate: Are you in good hands?)**

_Freshman year._

_I walked home from school that day. I felt like shit and did not want to be screamed at.  
_

_Luckily, my mother was sober when I got home._

_"Hi, baby, papaano ang paarlan?" She said quietly, looking at me. Her face fell when she saw my face and the tear tracks and bruises on it._

_"Kakila-kilabot," I whimpered, tears sliding down my face. "Nawala ako car keys. Dustin beat me up." I let out a sob._

_"Oh hindi, Mikey, ikinalulungkot ko, pumarito ka," my mother said apologetically, holding her arms out for me. "Are you okay, baby?"_

_I shook my head, letting out another sob._

_I sat in her lap and cried in her arms while she comforted me, running her fingers through the white patch of hair on the side of my head. "Mama, I'm sorry," I sobbed._

_"It's not you fault," she whispered quietly, running a hand through my hair. "Mahal na mahal kita," she whispered comfortingly, hugging me closer. "I love you so much."_

_We sat there for hours, no movement except for my mother's fingers in my hair, no sound except my crying and my mother's whispers._

_I stood up. "Salamat, Mama," I said. I then went to my room._

_I didn't self-harm that night._

**(Time jump back to the present brought to you by: Allstate wtf no I'm not)**

I continued to cry, until Christine got up and left.

 _She probably got bored of me,_ I thought miserably. _Bored of my misery. Bored of my pain._

A few minutes later, I heard the door open again. I let out a long, tired sigh.

"What do you want now, Christine? Back to tell me how you know everything about me again?" I said, sniffling. I looked up.

The person standing there wasn't Christine.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drugs...

(Jeremy's PoV **{Finally— sorry guys}** )

I followed them. Is that weird?

I followed them into the auditorium, but stayed behind when they went into the costume room. I heard Christine's voice, then Michael's. That pattern continued, and though I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, the argument seemed to escalate.

I sat next to the door, leaning up against the wall, listening to them scream unintelligibly at each other. Sighing, I rested my head on the wall and waited.

A few minutes later, The screaming stopped, and all I could hear was Christine's calm voice. I also heard a faint noise, almost like someone was crying. 

Still, I waited.

Suddenly the door burst open and Christine stormed out, slamming it behind her. She looked like she had been crying.

"What's wrong, Christine?" I asked her.

She looked at me, surprised that I was there, before muttering a "nothing" and walking away. "You deal with him!" she called angrily over her shoulder.

The crying noise didn't stop.

I stood up, opening the door quietly.

In the corner of the small, crowded room sat Michael, curled up in a ball and sobbing quietly to himself. I pushed a clothing rack aside and stepped toward him.

He must have heard me, because let let out a long, quiet sigh. "What do you want now, Christine?" he mumbled. "Back to tell me you know everything about me again?" He looked up.

He looked surprised that the person standing near him wasn't Christine.

"Hey," I said, sitting next to him. "What's wrong?"

He looked down at the ground, biting his lip. "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered, stretching his legs out and putting his hands in his lap.

"Please," I said, grabbing his hand. He blushed but I ignored it. "Tell me."

He didn't look up, just mumbled something I couldn't make out.

"Sorry," I said. "What?"

He looked up at me, tears streaming down his face. 

"What happens when your own mama doesn't love you anymore?" he whispered sadly, interlacing his fingers with mine and squeezing.

"Oh," I said quietly.

He started to cry harder. I wrapped my arms around him, comforting him. He returned the gesture, sobbing into my shirt and holding on tight.

"Michael," I said, "your mother does love you. I'm sure of it," I promised.

"How would you know?" he said quietly, not in a rude way, just a sad one. "She left me."

"I just do," I told him. "Your mother loves you no matter what. She always will."

He sat up, wiping his nose and eyes. "I'm sorry I bothered you," he said, sniffling. He pushed his glasses up and pulled a blunt out of his pocket. "So much for not smoking," he said bitterly to himself.

I snatched it out of his hands.

"What the fuck," he said. "I'm tired of crying. I'd rather be high than this wreck."

"Suck it up," I told him, sticking out my tongue. "It's bad for you."

"That was my last one," he whined, giggling as he tried to take it back. I moved it out of his reach, standing up.

"Give me my weed back," he insisted, holding his hand out for it. He stood up with me. "Please?"

I threw it in the trash. He pouted and slumped back to the ground. I sat down with him.

" _Maraming salamat_ , Jeremy," he said after a while. "Thank you." He leaned into me and I wrapped my arms around him. 

"Anytime," I whispered, closing my eyes.

"Jeremy?" he said. The name rolled off of his tongue like honey, but had a sadder note to it, like it was honey that he wasn't allowed to have.

"Yes?" I hummed, not opening my eyes.

"Can we skip?" he said quietly, shifting so he was closer to me. He nuzzled underneath my arm and settled again, his face buried in my shirt. He relaxed, letting out a contented sigh.

_This is waaaaaaaay too close to be platonic._

I felt my cheeks warm up. "Yeah, we can skip," I said warmly.

"Thank you." He waited before saying, "I'm tired."

"Close your eyes, Michael," I said.

He looked at me. "Thanks, Jer..." he said, closing his eyes. I smiled at the nickname, blushing a bit.

_Oh Michael, what are you doing to me?_

I watched his chest rise and fall evenly and let out a sigh. I started to run my hands through his hair. As soon as my fingers made contact with him, though, he let out a quiet exclamation and I froze.

After confirming that he was asleep, I closed my eyes, fingers still embedded in his hair, and fell asleep.

**(Time skip brought to you by: Subway: Eat fresh.)**

"Look, Jakey, I found them!"

I opened my eyes. Rich was triumphantly standing over the two of us. _That's new._

"Jesus, Rich, y'don't have to be so loud," Jake grumbled, walking in.

"How long have we been here?" I asked, causing Michael to shift and groan.

"Hours," Rich said. "What, were you sucking his dick or something?"

"You know what?" I said. "I'm just gonna pretend I never saw you. Bye," I said, closing my eyes again.

Michael sat up. "Oh, hey guys," he mumbled sleepily. I sighed and opened my eyes.

"Do you wanna go home?" I whispered in his ear.

"That's probably a good idea, since school's out," Jake put in. I sighed, standing up and pulling Michael with me.

"Do you wanna come over to mine?" I whispered.

He nodded. "Yes."

**(Time skip brought to you by: Mountain Dew: Do the Dew—** **and also brought to you by irony!)**

We walked through the front door to my house. "Dad!" I called. "I'm home!"

My father walked into the living room. He looked mad.

"I was called saying you weren't in class," he said.

"I know," I said, looking at the ground. "I'm sorry, I was just—"

"I don't care," he interrupted. "School is important."

"He was helping me!" Michael said suddenly. "He found me in the costume room."

"I don't even know who you are!" my father shouted, turning to him. Michael flinched. "Sorry," he said. "I just need to know where you are, Jeremy. Got it?"

I nodded slowly.

"Good, because next time this happens, you're grounded."

I nodded again, grabbing Michael's arm and dragging him to my room.

"Come on, Michael, let's play some video games."


	12. Chapter 12

(Michael's PoV)

I walked into third period with a grin on my face for a few reasons.

First, I hadn't done as Christine had predicted. I had spent the night at Jeremy's house, and only thought about my mother briefly.

Second, Jeremy said that he would listen to my music. He told me he'd never heard of Bob Marley. What the fuck.

Third, my father told me that my mother had called. She wanted to talk to me. Maybe she could love me again.

I took my seat next to Jeremy as I always did. "Hey, Jer," I said, a bit cautious but mostly just enthusiastic.

He smiled when he saw the grin on my face. "Someone looks happy today," he commented lightly.

"Hey, homos," someone yelled behind us. "Save it for the bedroom."

Jeremy turned around. "Fuck off," he said, scowling at him.

"It was a joke, jeez," the guy said defensively. "Calm down."

Thankfully, the bell rang then.

Chemistry had started.

**(Time skip brought to you by: Walmart: Save Money, Live Better)**

I headed to the cafeteria, Jeremy at my side. A small smile had attached itself to my lips and wouldn't leave. Jeremy sat with Rich, Jake, Brooke, and Jenna. I sat with Jeremy.

Jake was talking as we sat down. "...it'll be so much fun." He turned to us. "Hey, Jeremy! I had this amazing idea—"

Rich cut him off. "You?" he said, crossing his arms.

"Rich had this amazing idea!" Jake corrected himself. "You guys should come over to my place and we can play games and break into my parents' old liquor cabinet!" He grinned. "Then you guys can sleep over."

"When?" Jeremy asked.

"Nine," Rich answered, shifting so he was closer to Jake. Jake smiled and wrapped his arm around Rich. "Are you gonna come?"

I sighed. _I wish Jeremy would do that to me,_ I thought. Then I remembered.

_He'll never love me back._

"Definitely," Jeremy said.

I shook my head to clear the thoughts and nudged Jeremy. He turned to me and I handed him my headphones. He accepted them, putting them on as I fumbled with my phone and pressed play.

He flinched. I had them turned all the way up. Oops.

I hastily turned them down. "Sorry," I said. He relaxed visibly.

I watched him scrunch up his nose as he listened to the music. I rolled my eyes and continued to listen to Rich's and Jake's conversation.

Jeremy reached into the pocket of his jacket and removed a phone and a pair of earbuds. He handed them to me. "I think it's in a middle of a song," he said loudly.

"I don't care," I said, turning down the music more. I put the earbuds in my ears and pressed play on his phone.

A short base solo came on, like a one, two, one-two, one, two, one-two. I relaxed in the seat and listened.

 

 _Did he say anything else?_ A girl's voice asked.

 _Ab—about you?_ A more masculine tone.

_N-no— never-mind-it's-just-I-don't-really-care-anyways—_

_No-no-no! Just-no-no he said-he-said so many things I'm-just-I'm trying to remember the best ones, so..._

_He thought you looked really pretty— er, ahem, it looked pretty cool when you put indigo streaks in your hair—_

_He did?_

 

I bit back a laugh. This was what Jeremy listened to?

 

_If I could tell her, tell her everything I see_

_If I could tell her, that she's everything to me_

_But we're a million worlds apart_

_And I don't know how I could even start_

_If I could tell her_

I listened with a bit more intensity now. This wasn't actually a bad song. It seemed as if the boy was telling the girl how he felt through someone else's words.

_If I could tell her_

_But what do you do when there's this great divide_

_He just seems so far away_

_And what do you do when the distance is too wide_

_It's like I don't know anything_

_And how do you say_

_I love you_

_I love you_

_I love you_

_I love you_

_But we're a million worlds apart_

_And I don't know how I could even start_

_If I could tell her_

_If I could..._

The song ended and I removed the earbuds with a sigh, placing them on the table. I rubbed my eyes and was surprised that it came away wet.

_Did I cry?_

I sighed again.

_Maybe._

_I feel like I could relate to this._

_But I can't tell Jeremy anything, indirectly or not._

_That was a really good song._

Jeremy took off my headphones and handed them to me. I thanked him and put them on, hitting pause on my phone and slipping it into my pocket. "That was a really good song," I said.

"That's weird," he said, not hearing me.

"Really?" I said, looking at him. "I thought it was fine."

"No, that's not what I meant," he stuttered, shaking his head. "I meant that Christine was right."

Christine?

"She said you liked Bob Marley."

"Wait," I said, alarmed. "Christine told you about me?"

"I asked her about you," he said, confused. "Is there a problem?"

 _"What did she say?"_ I hissed, grabbing the collar of his shirt.

_What did she tell him about me?_

"I don't know!" he said defensively, putting his hands up. "I don't remember! Just a bunch of stuff about you! What's wrong?"

"Like what?" I let go of him.

He started to list a number of things, including my birthday, phone number, and favorite things to do.

I started to panic.

"Did she tell you about my jacket?" I pressed urgently.

He nodded slowly.

_Fuck._

"She told me about your patches..." he trailed off.

"I have to go," I said abruptly, standing up. I turned and walked out of the cafeteria.

"Michael!" Jeremy called after me. I kept walking.

_The thing is, I didn't even tell him anything._

_Christine did it for me._

_I didn't want her to._

I kept walking.

He grabbed my arm. 

Just like last time.

I spun around. "What do you want?" I demanded angrily.

"I'm sorry," he started.

"It's not your fault!" I yelled, tears gathering in my eyes.

"Just tell me what's wrong," he insisted.

"No! I can't!"

He pulled me close. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay."

"It's not okay!" I screamed. I felt stares burning my back and sides.

He wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay," he comforted. "Shh."

"It's not okay," I whimpered into his shirt.

"I don't care," he said. "I don't care."

 


	13. Chapter 13

(Michael's PoV)

"Hey, dad," I said as I walked through the front door of my house.

He was sitting at the dining room table when I spoke. At the sound of my voice, he stood up and walked over to me.

"There's something I need to tell you," he said, sighing.

_What now?_

"Okay," I said tentatively. "What is it?"

"Your mother has Alzheimer's." He sighed. "She's in the hospital."

Oh.

"Can we..." I started quietly.

"I'll take you to see her," he said shortly.

"I can go myself."

_I don't need you._

The words slipped out by accident, but I realized I didn't need him there.

"Okay," he said, sighing again. "Be back by eight."

I rolled my eyes and walked back out to my car. Getting in it, I drove to the hospital.

**(Time skip brought to you by: Skittles: Taste the Rainbow.)**

"Room 283," the woman at the counter said.

"Thank you."

_Room 283... room 283..._

I opened the door to the designated room.

_That looks way worse than Alzheimer's._

My mother was hooked up to a bunch of machines. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful. I was only able to tell that she was alive by the faint rise and fall of her chest and the steady _beep_ ing that filled the room. 

I understood the one monitor, but did she need so many IVs and stuff?

A woman was standing next to my mother's bed, holding her hand. Tears were running down her face.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" I said timidly, walking over to her. "I think you're in the wrong room. This is my mother." I pulled her hand away from my sleeping mother's. "This is my mother," I repeated.

The woman turned to look at me, recoiling from my hand as if I had startled her. There were tear tracks on her face and bags under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept in a week. She sighed sadly as she met my eyes. "I'm sorry," she said.

"It's okay," I said. "If you're looking for room two eighty fo—"

"I think _you're_ in the wrong room. This is my wife's room." She looked at me and smiled sadly.

_"What?"_

_I didn't hear her correctly._

"I married her," she explained. "That makes her my wife."

"You don't understand," I said, shaking my head. "This is my mother."

_She left me to marry another woman._

"I'm sorry, honey," she began, "but I don't think—"

"You don't _understand_ ," I insisted. "She _left_ me— for _you_?"

"I don't think this is your—" she sighed.

"This is my mother, all right," I said bitterly. "She left a year ago... but why are _you_ more important than _me_? Why wasn't she able to stay?"

"I—" she tried.

" _Why did she leave_?" I cried, grabbing her shoulders. "And if it was just because she wanted you, why did she make the reason she left about _me_?" 

"I think she wanted—"

My breathing quickened. 

"You don't _understand! Nobody understands!"_ I screamed. "She called me _worthless_! She said I was  _ugly_! She came home _drunk_ late at night—probably hanging out with _you_! She _screamed_ at me! She told me she didn't want me! She told me I didn't _matter_!"

My breath hitched as I let out a quiet sob. I felt the woman's stare burn my neck and face as she scanned me over.

"Hon, I'm sure—" the woman said.

" _At siya ay tama._ "

Her face morphed from one of pity to confusion. "What—"

" _Wala akong bagay,_ " I whispered. " _Ako ay hindi mahalaga_."

"Sweetheart, will you tell me—"

" _Paano kung namatay ako_?" I said. " _Mapapansin ba ng sinuman_?"

_No one would notice. No one would care._

_Can anybody see? The real me?_

_I don't matter._

My mother stirred in her bed. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. I took a step back.

I turned to leave, but the woman grabbed my arm. "Don't leave," she pleaded. "Not until you tell me what you said." She tried to smile again. "I don't speak Norwegian."

_What the fuck? Norwegian?_

"It's not _Norwegian_ ," I hissed, yanking my arm away from her. "It's _Filipino_."

"Mikey?"

I turned to see my mother sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes as if there weren't twenty-three machines hooked up to her.

"Mama?" I whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it gets a little hot but not very hawt so phew

(Jeremy's PoV)

I walked through the door of Rich's house and immediately regretted it.

_Ew._

_That's so gross._

"Mmph!" Rich exclaimed, pulling away from Jake. Jake wiped his mouth and smirked at me.

My gaze flicked to the ground and locked on the very interesting carpet. "Where are the girls?" I asked, not looking up.

"They're in Jake's new room," Rich said, his smirk turning into a genuine smile. "Doing each other's nails or something." He considered his words. "Or just each other."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll risk it," I said, walking toward a set of stairs.

"Wait!" Rich called. "We actually do want to talk to you first."

Sighing, I turned around. "Yeah?"

_Please don't start making out again._

"Did you consider what I told you?" Rich said, biting his lip. "About a different perspective?"

"Uh, Rich?" Jake said, glancing at the shorter boy. "He has. He's obviously bi."

_What?!_

"Jake!" I spluttered, coughing.

"What?" he said accusingly. "Look, I might not be the smartest crayon in the drawer, but I know what a closeted gay guy looks like."

Rich choked. "Pff-haha— Jake, that's not how the saying go—"

"You don't look like one," Jake finished, looking pleased with himself.

_Okay. I don't—_

_Hold up._

_What?_

"But," Jake continued, "you look at Michael— that's his name, right?— like you want to pin him up against the wall and—"

"Jake, leave him alone."

Jenna came down the stairs, Brooke trailing closely behind her.

"Great!" Rich clapped his hands together. "Let's play spin the bottle! And get really drunk!" He ran to the kitchen and returned with a few cups and a bottle of liquor, grinning the entire time.

He poured each of us a cup, and when the bottle was empty, he lay it on the ground. Taking a long drink from his cup, he sighed and spun it.

It landed on Jake.

**(Small time skip brought to you by: KFC: Finger Lickin' Good)**

**//side note: this sponsor could not have been used at a worse time//**

Soon we were all drunk and laughing, and it was my turn to spin the bottle again.

The first time I had spun the bottle, it had landed on Jenna. She had wrinkled her nose and said, "Ew. This isn't good for a healthy lesbian," but had given me a light kiss anyway.

I spun the bottle again. After turning in circles for a while (as that's what spinning bottles do) it stopped spinning.

It pointed at Jake.

He smirked and I swallowed.

"Calm down," he said seductively, making his way over to me.

"Jakey," Rich whined, not really minding what Jake was doing.

He sat next to me and turned my head to face him, lifting my jaw a little. His grip was firm, and it caused me to let out and embarrassing little squeak.

"Shh," Jake whispered, his face inches away from mine.

Maybe it was just the alcohol, but suddenly, Jake looked...  _hot._

 _Really_ hot _._

_It's the alcohol. Remember that._

Suddenly his lips were against mine. 

His fingers slid from my jaw to my hair, and he collected a fistful and tugged, causing me to gasp quietly. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, and I could taste the whiskey in his.

I'd like to say I was the one in charge.

I wasn't.

He utterly dominated me, controlled me. 

His body pressed into mine. 

His hands in my hair. 

His tongue in my mouth.

I felt his hands slide down to my waist, the to the hem of my shirt. He pulled gently on the hem, his fingers brushing my skin. I gasped again, needing more.

Then he pulled away all too soon. I sighed in disbelief and disappointment, and he smirked.

"That's gay," Rich said, smirking. He pointed at my stomach and I looked down.

_Son of a motherfucking fuck._

I crossed my legs, blushing fiercely and wincing at the pain from doing so.

_Fuck my abnormally high libido._

_Why do I have to be hard now?!_

"I told you so, Richie," Jake said smugly, returning to sit by him.

"Well," I said, embarrassed, "I guess I'm bisexual then."

 

(Michael's PoV)

"H-hey, Mama," I said quietly. " _Ayos ka lang ba_?" My voice was almost inaudible by then.

My mother shook her head slowly. "S _inabi nila na mayroon akong ilang araw na natitira,"_ she whispered. A tear ran down her face.

"I missed you," I said. "Why did you leave?"

"I loved another," she answered sadly. "I loved Jasmine." She gestured to the woman, who was now sitting in a chair. "So I left with her."

"Why did you make it about me?" I said. "If you just wanted to marry a woman, why did you come home late at night and scream at me? Why—"

"Speak in my language, Mikey," she said softly.

" _No_." I gritted my teeth.

"It was..." She sighed tiredly. "I wanted you to hate me. So when I died, it wouldn't hurt you."

"What?" I said, quietly.

Jasmine stood up. "She has a few days left, seven at the most. After that, you'll never see her again."

The words sounded oddly familiar.

... _never see... again._

_Christine._

I sighed, letting the tears fall down my face.

"She's going to die, and there's nothing you can do about it." Jasmine looked sad, but not overly despairing.

"Why are you so calm?" I asked, frowning at her.

"I have leukemia," she said. "So I'll just die too." She shrugged. "Maybe a little later, but still."

Oh.

Now what?

Make a conversation?

"So," I began awkwardly, speaking to both my mother and Jasmine, "my birthday is in three days..."

 

(Jeremy's PoV) 

"So," I said, my words slightly slurred, "Michael's birthday is in three days, and I wanna get him something."

"What does he like?" Rich said, squirming a bit as Jake kissed his neck.

I thought back to all the things Christine had said to me, but had a little trouble remembering because I'd the alcohol in my system. "Outdated things like Mountain Dew Red, and he gets lots of patches."

"Oh!" Jenna brightened, causing Brooke to stir on her lap. "I found this case of, like, a bunch of clear Pepsis in my cousin's trunk." She grinned. "That might work."

I nodded, smiling. "That's great."

Rich suddenly let out a whimper. Jenna and I turned to see Jake slowly sucking on Rich's neck while the shorter boy bit his lip, trying to keep any noise from coming out.

"I'm going to bed," Jenna said immediately, picking Brooke up. She was careful not to wake the blonde girl, and carried her upstairs.

Rich opened his eyes and looked at me lustfully. "Wanna join?" he whispered seductively.

I stood up, my face growing warm. "I'm gonna pass."

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: internalized homophobia

**Three days later...**

(Michael's PoV)

I hadn't seen Jeremy all day and it was worrying me.

_Where is he?_

_Did Christine tell him it was my birthday?_

I shook off the thoughts and headed towards the cafeteria. Unsurprisingly, Jeremy wasn't at our lunch table. Instead, Jared sat in Jeremy's usual spot. He gestured over to me and I sat next to him.

"Happy birthday, dumbass," he said wholeheartedly. He grabbed a small box and handed it to me. "For you," he said awkwardly, a tad insecure.

An involuntary smile found its way onto my face and I sighed. "Thank you, Jared."

"Open it, retard," he said, gesturing towards the package.

I laughed and opened the box.

In the box was a brand new, silver pair of headphones. On the sides, an obnoxiously red R and L showed which pad went on which ear.

_Oh my god._

I felt a grin split my face as tears gathered in my eyes. "Jared, oh my god..."

"Do you like them?" he said quietly.

To answer him, I yanked him into a bone-crushing hug. "I love them," I whispered. Tears began to fall down my face.

_No one's given me anything like this since eighth grade, when Christine ruined my life— with one confession._

"This is awesome!" I said, taking off my old headset and putting it into my backpack. I plugged my new headphones in. They were soft.

Jared's gaze followed my hands, but locked into my backpack and the word scrawled out onto the red fabric.

I felt my face heat up. Jared noticed.

"So," he started, "it sucks to be in love, doesn't it?"

"What?" I spluttered, coughing.

 _Love_?

"I've seen the way you practically eye-rape Jeremy every day," Jared says casually, smirking and crossing his arms. "And that pining look in your eyes."

"But—" I tried.

"I know what it is, Michael. I see it every day... in the mirror." His voice changed from one of teasing from one of wistfulness.

"Who are you in love with?" I said quietly. 

He looked reluctant to answer, and I immediately felt bad for him. But he shook his head and said, "Evan... and Connor." He blushed. "I know it's fucked up, since they're dating and I like both of th—"

"No." I cut him off. "It's great. There's nothing wrong with that," I reassured him. "It's okay."

He looked at me hopefully, but disbelievingly. "No— I'm fucked up, you don't have to lie." He shook his head. "I should go."

I grabbed his arm. "Just— ask them out or something. What could go wrong?"

He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "You don't wanna know." He stood up. "Happy birthday." Turning around, he left, leaving me alone.

I sighed, slouching against the seat. 

_Now what?_

"Michael!"

 

(Jeremy's PoV)

I walked over to the shorter boy, waving at him. "Michael!"

He turned, surprised to see me there. "Oh— hey, Jeremy."

"Do you want to come over to my house after school?" I asked him.

Hesitantly, he nodded. "I was gonna go to the hospital, but I can do that later."

_The ... what?_

He must have seen the confusion on my face, because he explained. "Relative," he said, shrugging. "Where were you during chem?"

_Shit. What's a believable lie?_

"I slept late," I lied.

He nodded, not really looking like he believed me but not pressing the matter. "It's my birthday," he said quietly.

I nodded. "I know. Happy birthday." Smiling. I sat next to him.

"One of the many things Christine told you, huh?" he said quietly. I nodded again.

"Sorry," I said. "I won't ask her about you again."

"It doesn't really matter," he said. "I told her first."  Shrugging, he sighed. "She can tell whoever she wants."

"She doesn't talk to me anymore," I said. He looked at me with surprise. 

"Oh."

"Why..." I started, then thought for a second.

_Why does Christine dislike you so much?_

"Hm?" he prompted.

"Why doesn't Christine like you?" I said, curious but also uncomfortable.

_This is personal._

"Oh." He looked pained. "In eighth grade, I came out to her."

 _So he is gay._ I nodded to myself.

His face looked calm, but his eyes looked scared. Scared of what I would say. Scared that I might hate him.

He must want to make it seem like it's not a big deal... so I won't make a big deal out of it either.

_But... Christine didn't seem to care about Rich being bi. Or Jake being pan._

"Wait— so she didn't accept you or something?" _That doesn't make any sense._

"Uh, no." He smiled a bit, but there was no mirth or happiness behind it. "The same day I came out to her, she admitted her feelings to me." Running a hand through his hair, he sighed.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

"Oh."

_...That really sucks._

"I know, right?" Michael seemed to read my thoughts. "I felt really bad, but she spread it around the school." He shrugged. "I—"

"I'm bisexual," I told him.

Silence.

Michael stared at me. His cheeks turned red. "Oh. O-okay." He nodded furiously, blushing harder.

I hummed, nodding along with him. Feeling my face heat up, I stared at the tiles covering the lunchroom floor.

"Jeremy! Michael!"

Christine.

Michael's face fell as soon as he heard her voice. Looking around, he said, "I should go."

"No," I insisted, grabbing his arm. "Stay."

The shorter girl looked nervous as she walked over to us. She also looked hurt and... angry?

"Hey," she said hesitantly, and Michael moved to get up.

"Stop," I hissed at him under my breath. He sighed and sat back down.

Christine sat across from the two of us. "I, um, I wanted to apologize," she mumbled unhappily. "So I'm sorry that I said all those things to you, Michael. And I'm sorry that I was so..." She paused, then continued. "Rude, about you breaking up with me. I guess I was just... unhappy about it."

"It's fine," I said, and at the same time, Michael said, "It's not okay."

I glanced at him in surprise.

"It isn't," he said, shaking his head. Turning to Christine, he then said, "You can't say stuff like that. It hurts."

Christine frowned. "Look, I'm—"

"It's not okay! Listen!" Michael said, more angry now. "The stuff you said, it was _low_. And it hurt. And I can't trust you! _Look_ ," he said, mocking the word Christine had just used, "Christine, you are a liar, and a good one at that. You can say whatever you want to me, and you use my weaknesses— which _I_ told you!— to get the message through to me in the most painful way. So no, it's _not_ okay, thank you very much." He sighed and put his head on the table.

"What did you say?" I asked Christine curiously, but she shook her head.

"That's a story for another time," she said.

"Or for never," Michael said, muffled by his arms.

"Yeah— another time," I agreed, earning a snort of laughter from Michael. "Anyway, what happened in chemistry today?"


	16. Chapter 16

(Michael's PoV)

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly, and before I knew it, I was walking through the door to my house.

I heard voices in the living room, and so I walked in there to see who was talking to my father.

"Jasmine?"

In the past few days, the woman had been in the hospital room all the time, usually talking to my mother while she slept, or having a conversation. I had learned to get along with her, and she seemed like a nice enough person.

That didn't explain why she was in the living room having a conversation with my father.

"Oh!" my father said, smiling. "You already know each other."

I nodded slowly. "What is she doing here?" I said, frowning _._

_Why? Why is the woman who took my mother away from my father talking to him?_

My father looked at Jasmine. "She was at the hospital with your mother. I invited her over."

Jasmine smiled. "Come talk with us, Michael."

"Actually," I said awkwardly, "I'm going over to Jeremy's house tonight." I shrugged. "I'll probably stay over there."

"Okay," my father said, nodding. "Happy birthday, Micha."

I left the house with a warm feeling in my chest.

**(Small time skip brought to you by: Kit Kat: Have a break, have a Kit Kat.)**

I got out of my car and headed towards the door of Jeremy's house. Before I even got to the door, I could clearly hear giggling and muffled talking.

I knocked on the door and the giggling instantly ceased. I heard loud shushing.

The door opened to reveal a red-faced Jeremy. His hair was messed up and he was breathing heavily, sweating a little. "Come in," he said breathlessly, moving so I could go in first.

" _Salamat_ , Jeremy," I said, smiling.

I followed the taller boy inside and was instantly tackled by at least four different people. 

"Ugh— you're squishing me," I complained, laughing.

I felt everyone get off of me and I started feeling around for my glasses.

"You should have come earlier!" Rich's voice sounded in my ear, causing me to flinch. "We were having the pillow fight of all pillow fights."

"Yeah." Jenna. "You would have never guessed Rich was a guy, his squeals are so high pitched."

"Shut up, Jenna!" Rich. A thump followed that, along with an "oof."

"I can't see, guys," I whined, sitting up.

"Here." I felt a pair of soft hands touch mine, with something with thin metal frames and glass in them. I accepted the item when I figured out that they were my glasses.

" _Salamat_."

I put them on and watched the world come into focus. Jenna was whacking Rich repeatedly with a large white pillow. Brooke was taking pictures of me and Jeremy, and I realized my face must be as red as his. Jake was sitting in the corner with another pillow, ready to defend himself in case he was attacked.

"Stop!" Rich screamed, uncontrollably giggling as he squirmed on the floor. "I'm sorry!"

Jenna had resorted to tickling, and Rich was her victim. Jake stood up. "Leave him alone!" he said, whacking Jenna with his pillow.

"Never!" Jenna screamed, cackling.

Jeremy still hadn't moved from his spot next to me, and his eyes were locked on Brooke, who was still taking pictures. Suddenly he blinked, his face blushing to a dark shade of maroon. Coughing, he stood up, grabbing a pillow.

"What are you—" He hit me with the pillow. All of the air in my lungs was knocked out of me in one huff.

He laughed at my expression. "Oh my god! Your face—"

I stole his pillow and hit him with it. "Ugh," he huffed, clutching his stomach.

"Pff-ha-ha!" I laughed. "Oh my—"

Someone hit the back of my head. I spun around to see Rich grinning.

_I'm glad I left my headphones at home._

"Fuck you," I said, hitting him back. He laughed it off and ran away to hit Jake.

Soon it was a free-for-all, with no one on anyone's side, everyone backstabbing and turning on one another. We quickly became six sweaty, red faced teenagers.

Finally, Jeremy flopped down on the couch. "I'm tired," he declared.

"Ooh!" Jenna shouted. "Presents!" She ran into Jeremy's room and returned with a few boxes. She handed me the first one, a thin, square box. I opened it.

A brand new Bob Marley CD. "Exodus". 

A smile broke out on my face. "This is awesome!" I said, turning the CD case over to read the names of the songs.

"It's from me," Brooke supplied helpfully.

" _Salamat_ , Brooke."

"What does that mean?" She said curiously. I looked at her, confused, until she repeated, "Salamat."

"Oh!" I said, smiling. "It means thank you."

She nodded in understanding. After a moment, she waved her arms. "Don't just sit there! Open another one!"

I nodded, grabbing another one. The second package was a bit smaller than the first, but it also was soft, like cloth. I opened it.

It was a Pac-Man patch. But instead, the Pac- Man was red and the pellets were blue.

_Oh my god— that's so cute._

"I love it," I said, smiling and pocketing it.

"It's from Jakey-D," Rich said, kissing his boyfriend on the nose. Jake blushed and looked away.

" _Salamat_ , Jake."

I picked up the last box, which was noticeably bigger. I looked at Jenna, Rich, and Jeremy, who were all looking at each other and grinning.

I put the box down. "Okay, What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Jeremy said, turning red. "Just open it."

I rolled my eyes jokingly and opened the box.

Under the wrapping paper was a box, and in the box was a six pack of Crystal Pepsi.

My eyes widened. 

"Oh my fuck," I said.

Everyone burst out laughing.

"No— I'm serious! This is amazing!" I insisted. 

They kept laughing. 

"Assholes."

"No— it's not that," Rich choked out. "It's just— you said—" He curled up into a ball, laughing uncontrollably.

Now I needed to focus on calming Rich down.

"If you want, we could put this in your car," Brooke offered.

"Thanks, please do," I said, kneeling down next to Rich. "Stop laughing."

Rich's chest heaved as he struggled to get in a breath. After a minute he calmed down. "Okay," he said, exhaling and stretching out. "I'm good."

Brooke returned and sat on the couch next to Jeremy.

We sat in silence.

After a moment, Jenna whispered something in Brooke's ear and they both got up. "We'll be in Jeremy's room," Brooke said.

"Alright," Jeremy said, slouching. "Don't touch my video games."

Brooke rolled her eyes and followed Jenna.

"So," I said, grinning, "wanna get high?"

Rich nodded almost immediately, followed by Jake. I handed each of them a blunt from my pocket.

"Uh," Jeremy said as I lit mine and handed the lighter around, "is this a good idea?"

"No," I said. "But I'm eighteen. So I don't give a fuck."

"Fine," Jeremy said, rolling his eyes. "Give me one."

I gave him a blunt and he lit it, taking a puff. Almost immediately he started to cough, covering his mouth as the rest of us burst into laughter.

"Oh my god," Rich said. "Not like that, Jeremy. Like this." He demonstrated, taking his own puff— and not bursting into a fit of coughs.

Jeremy pouted, puffing again. "Let's play a game."

"Okay!" Jake said, grinning. He stood up and walked into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of liquor.

"How did you—" Jeremy started.

"It was in the cupboard," Jake explained.

"Uh, Jakey?" Rich said, taking the bottle away. "Weed and alcohol aren't a good combo."

I shook my head. Taking the bottle from Rich, I placed it on the ground. "We can just play with a full bottle."

"Guys," Jeremy said, rolling his eyes. "The bottle's empty."

I looked at the bottle. It was empty.

My face heated up. "Fuck you," I said, slightly embarrassed.

"You wish," Jeremy said, grinning. 

I blushed harder.

"Okay," Rich said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Who's going first?"

 


	17. Chapter 17

(Jeremy's PoV)

Rich went first. 

The game started off pretty tame, with only light pecks on the lips or soft kisses on the cheek. After a while, though, it got a bit more enthusiastic the more we smoked.

Eventually I put my blunt out and threw it away. 

Going to the kitchen to look for milk, I called out behind me, "I'll be right back!"

I returned after pouring two cups of milk and brought them back, offering one to Michael as I sat down. He sighed, but accepted it anyway.

"Spin the bottle, Jeremy," Rich said, leaning against Jake.

I shifted into a more comfortable position on the rough carpet, grabbing the bottle and spinning it.

It spun for a while. I felt the pit in my stomach become more uncomfortable as the bottle spun, painfully aware of everyone's eyes on me.

The bottle spun for a few more seconds, then stopped.

It was pointed at Michael.

 

(Michael's PoV)

The bottle pointed at me. 

 _Why do I have to kiss my crush? I'll for sure be a stuttering mess afterwards,_ I thought resentfully.

I don't know what I expected. A fast peck, maybe? Something quick, for sure.

He crawled over to me, lifting my head up to face him and removing my glasses. We were inches away from each other. I could feel his warm breath puff against my lips. We sat for that for a few moments, frozen, unable to move but terrified of what the other might do. My heart was pounding in my chest so hard, I thought he must be able to hear it.

Suddenly his lips were against mine.

They were soft but firm, and the way he pushed against me to let me know who was in charge caused me to gasp quietly into his mouth. His lips caressed mine in a way that was both gentle and kind, but also hungry and maybe a bit desperate. I felt every thought leave my mind as he kissed me slowly. All I felt was a blissful emptiness that was much, much better than being high.

I don't know what I expected. 

 I _definitely_ didn't expect him to tilt his head slightly and kiss me deeper, parting my lips gently with his tongue. I felt my face warm as I sucked lightly on his tongue, drawing a quiet growl out of him.

 _Fuck_.

One of his hands drifted up the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair and pulling me impossibly closer. The other moved down to my waist, where he dragged his nails lightly under my shirt.

Fuck.

He was _good_.

I moved my hands to pull at his hair, but he grabbed them and put the back at my sides with a slight growl, never disconnecting our lips. I tried again, but got the same result.

Suddenly he changed direction and kissed me hard and fast, his tongue exploring every part of my mouth.

He tasted like the milk we both had just drank, but had a sweeter tang to it, as if he had sugared his milk or added cream.

Someone awkwardly cleared their throat. 

And... Fuck.

Jeremy shot away from me, his face turning red. I didn't move from where I was, dazed. I was only faintly aware of the dark red blush crawling up my neck. 

"ExcUSE me," Rich said, sounding offended, "but you complained when I kissed Jake like that." He crosses his arms, scoffing. "What kind of nerve do you have to assault this poor boy."

"I don't know about poor—" Jake chimed in.

"Shush, Jake, I'm proving a point."

Everyone glanced at me.

Rich was the person to snap me out of my blissful trance. It was embarrassing.

"Ohmygod, look, Jakey. Michael's hard." 

I blinked, shaking my head. "What?"

"You got hard on Jeremy! Oh my god!" Rich started to laugh, clutching his stomach and rolling on the ground.

I crossed my legs uncomfortably and pouted at him. "I'm not calming him down this time," I muttered, hiding against the wall.

Jeremy glanced at me with a look I was unable to decipher, his cheeks dusted pink with a blush. "I'm going to my room," he said.

"The girls are in there," I said, standing up. I felt my face flush as Jeremy's eyes flickered over my body, focusing on my problem the most. 

"Then I'll go to the guest bedroom." His voice sounded a bit funny.

"I'll go with you," I said quietly.

_There's something I want to talk about._

He agreed and I followed him into the guest bedroom, sprawling out on the queen sized bed in the center of the room.

He sat in the bed and I immediately shot up. "Hey, can we... talk about what just happened?"

"About what?" he mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Don't act like you don't know," I said. "You kissed me— like _that_!— and you're going to pretend it didn't happen?!"

"Do you want me to act like it happened?" he said quietly, some hidden emotion behind his words.

"Maybe," I mumbled to the floor, my energy and confidence suddenly gone. "Maybe I want you to act like it happened."

"Why?" he whispered, looking at me. "What good reason is there to act like I kissed you like I was in love with you?" He shook his head.

I returned his gaze, a bit nervously, but also confident in my answer.

"Because maybe I love you too."

He looked at me silently, shocked. None of us moved, and the silence hung heavy in the air.

 _He hates me. He hates me. Hehatesmehehatesmehehatesme_. 

"Oh."

I felt tears gather in my eyes as I dug my fingernails into my palm. 

 _Fuckfuckfuck_.

I closed my eyes. I was faintly aware of my hands bleeding, but I was numb. I didn't care.

I felt gentle, soft hands pull my fingers away from my palm to keep me from hurting myself. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. "Maybe I love you back," he whispered, a small smile on his face.

"You—" I felt tears gather in my eyes again. "Why? I'm ugly."

_He'll never, ever, ever..._

"You're not ugly," he said quietly. "You're... beautiful. I love everything about you. I love your face, and your hair, and your personality..."

"I've been told— no, reminded— I was ugly," I protested weakly. "Others—"

He wrapped me in his warm and caring embrace, hugging me tight. "Who cares what others say?" he whispered warmly, letting out a laugh. It was quiet, but nevertheless let all the butterflies I had fought to keep caged in fluttering around my stomach again.

"But—"

"Who cares?" he said again, smiling. "You're beautiful to _me_."

 

 

 

**Well that was a shitty ending.**

**If you have any questions or loose ends you want tied up, feel free to ask me and I will either send you a message or write a chapter on it.**

**I promise I'll write a chapter on what happens to Michael's mom, Jasmine(maybe) and Christine. Someday.**

**Thank you so much for staying along for the ride and reading my story! I do want to hear any feedback, as I want to improve my writing.**

**I'm going to put this under the completed category.**

**See you in the next one.**

**Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend,**

**Hacker**

**P.S. I love you guys!**

 


	18. Epilouge: Michael

(Michael's PoV)

"What are your intentions with Michael?" Jasmine asked Jeremy sternly as he held me. The black-haired woman had grown on me, and she had begun to treat me as if I were her own son. Well, I was technically her son-in-law, but she liked me. 

See the difference?

"I— What?" Confusion flitted over Jeremy's features. He looked up at the tall woman, bewildered.

"What do you want to do with this boy?" she repeated, crossing her arms.

Unfortunately for my boyf, protective Jasmine was very intimidating at times, and this was no exception.

"I—" He glanced at me. "I guess I just want to make him happy. I want to date him well into college, and make him the happiest man ever." He looked at me, hope and promise in his eyes.

I blushed shyly, looking away.

"Good. Don't leave him— just because I loved his mama doesn't mean I approve. Stay with the boy."

_Why did she mention that? Now I—_

"I will," Jeremy promised quickly, glancing down at me as he felt me vibrate in his grip.

Jasmine nodded, satisfied, and left.

Immediately Jeremy kneeled down next to me, wrapping his arms around me.

It took mere seconds for me to break.

"She's g-gone," I sobbed, burying my face in Jeremy's shoulder. "Sh-she's d-dead. She's never gonna—"

"I know, baby, I know," Jeremy whispered comfortingly, pulling me closer to him and holding me tighter.

My fingers trembled as they interlaced with my boyfriend's, and I started to cry harder. "I'm sorry," I wailed, my sounds muffled slightly by Jeremy's jacket. 

"Shh," Jeremy whispered, pressing a gentle, loving kiss to my forehead. "She loves you, remember that. No matter what. Okay? And I love you. I love you so much." He started to run his fingers through the white patch of hair on my head. The absentminded gesture had become a routine for him whenever he comforted me.

"Sh-she loves m-me," I whimpered, my entire body shaking from my uncontrollable sobs. "Sh-she l-loves m-me."

My mother had died from a blood clot in the hospital. I was there...

**(Time jump to the past brought to you by: Me, still writing at 2am)**

" _Hey, baby," my mama whispered, squeezing my hand gently in her frail one and bringing it up to her chest. "How are you? Are you okay?"_

_"I'm good, Mama," I answered shakily, a bit surprised at my own answer. I didn't think I'd ever be happy since middle school ended. "Jeremy's my boyfriend now, and he's amazing and sweet and kind and... I think—no, I know— I love him. So much."_

_"Are you happy?" she rasped, a small smile forming on her face as she looked at me. My eyes met hers, and I knew what was coming._

_I didn't want it to come._

_Tears welling up in my eyes and running down my face, I nodded. "I'm happy."_

_"Does Jeremy make you happy?" she questioned softly, rubbing her thumb on the back of my hand._

_"Yes, Mama." I sniffled, rubbing my face with my free hand. "He makes me happy."_

_"Mabuti," the older woman said, satisfied. "Just so you know, if he hurts you, beat his ass."_

_Caught off guard, I laughed in surprise and amusement at her crude language and hidden message. "Oh my god, Mama."_

_"You have to love yourself, Mikey. You have to accept yourself."_

_"I..." I thought for a moment. "I do, I think. I'm okay with having vitiligo, and I know it doesn't define me anymore."_

_"That's my boy," she said enthusiastically, causing me to smile again._

_"I love you, Mama," I whispered. "Mahal na mahal kita."_

_"Mahal din kita," my mother replied tiredly. "I'm so sorry Mikey, I love you, but oras na para sa akin na pumunta," she whispered._

_My head shot up. "Hindi, Mama, please, no!" I felt the tears come again._

Don't leave me.

_"I have to, baby," she said, smiling sadly._

_"Please! Mama!" I sobbed, letting go of my mother and curling in on myself._

_"Michael," she said brokenly. "I'm sorry. Ngunit kailangan mong maging matapang."_

_"I'm not brave," I said, covering my face._

_"Michael," she said sternly. "Be strong. You could be brave."_

_"I-I'm not."_

_"You must be, otherwise you'll never move on. I love you, but I must leave."_

_"Mama, please—"_

_"Do it."_

_"Okay." I nodded, sniffling and wiping my nose._

_"My baby," she whispered. "You've come so far. I will watch you, and follow you in your heart. I love you and I'm so sorry for all that I put you through. But you steered through it, and you will be happy. One day."_

_"Mama, please—" I pleaded, grasping her hand. She gave it one last squeeze. "Paalam."_

_She closed her eyes and her hand went limp._

_"Mama, no!" I screamed. "Please!"_

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep._

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep._

_"Mama," I whispered, desperate. The tears would never stop. "Please, no."_

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee—_

**(Time jump back to the present brought to you by: My cat, walking on top of me at 3am while I was editing)**

"Jeremy—" I sobbed again.

"Shh, please," Jeremy said quietly. "I can't bear seeing you like this— I hate to see you so sad." He lifted my chin and kissed me softly. "I love you."

"Mahal din kita," I whispered in response.

"Hey," he said, "you should teach me some Filipino, then I can understand half the things you say."

I scoffed and pushed him off of me, forgetting about my mother for a second. "Shut up, I don't switch languages that often," I said, rolling my eyes and letting out a snort of laughter.

 _You will be happy._ My mother's words echoed in my mind. 

_Be brave._

I wiped my eyes and nose, putting my glasses back on and pushing them up.

_I'm not brave..._

_Yet._

Fighting back the urge to break down again, I spoke. My voice cracked a bit, and was nowhere near perfect, but... It was a start.

"Hey, Jer?" I said. "Do you want to go out and get slushees?"

 

 


	19. Epilouge: Christine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my story! This is the last chapter, and I will focus my attention on a new book. Ily... have fun!!!

(Christine's PoV)

They were holding hands when they walked in on Monday.

The sight of seeing the two people I loved loving each other was both heartbreaking and heartwarming.

They were cute together. I could see that.

They were very obviously very fit for each other in every way. Michael was sensitive and impulsive and anxious, but he was also kind, funny, and even sarcastic if he wanted to be. Jeremy got a bit anxious too, but he was much more confident, and stubborn, and lighthearted. The taller boy was empathetic and quick to forgive, but he would do anything to protect those he loved.

It was sweet, the way they looked after one another.

They were happy... which made me happy.

But the way Michael reaches for Jeremy's hand unconsciously when he gets nervous, and the way Jeremy presses soft kisses to Michael's forehead when they think no one is looking just... hurts.

It hurt so much.

_I love you, Mikey. Even if my love changes from romantic to platonic, it'll never go away. Even if you scorn me. Even if you never love me back._

The thought echoed around in my head for a while, and I felt tears come to my eyes.

_I should apologize one more time, just to see if they'll forgive me._

I walked up to the pair during lunch. Jeremy was playing with the white patch of Michael's hair again, and Michael's eyes were closed as he leaned up against his boyfriend.

Forcing a smile on my face, I sat down on the stiff bench next to the two boys.

Michael's eyes snapped open and his gaze immediately flicked to me, but he didn't look angry. Just wary and tired, with a pinch of surprise. Jeremy acknowledged me with a murmur, not removing his fingers from Michael's hair.

"Hey, guys," I said, my fake enthusiasm extremely unconvincing. I winced at the fakeness of my words and looked away.

"Hey, Chris," Michael said softly. Jeremy waved slightly, smiling a bit when he saw me.

_Why would he do that?_

"Um," I said, my attention being drawn away by Jeremy's hands. "Uh, I wanted to apologize."

"Again?" Michael's question wasn't surprising, but he didn't look like he was going to blow up at me.

I nodded. "And I was just wondering," I continued on breathlessly, "if maybe you guys could forgive me or—"

"Christine." Jeremy stopped my rant with a hand on my shoulder. A small smile formed on his face. "I've already forgiven you."

My heart swelled. "Thank you, Jeremy, if I could—"

"It's Michael you need to say sorry to," he said, gesturing to the shorter boy. Michael blinked at me, and closed his eyes, waiting for my words.

_He doesn't even want to look at me._

"I'm s-so sorry," I said, tears coming into my eyes. I shook my head, wiping my face.

"For what?" he murmured, no sarcasm or rudeness in his voice. His eyes didn't open, but he let out a quiet hum as Jeremy gently pulled on his hair.

"F-for everything," I said, pushing back the tears that were tryingso desperately  to escape. "I was so mean to you. And I just— I wanted—" A sob came out unbidden, despite my efforts to hide it. "I just—" 

I wasn't able to get anything intelligible over the sobs forcing their way out of my body. "I'm s-so s-s-sorry. S-so—"

I felt warm arms wrap around my body, pulling me into a warm embrace. I cried into their shoulder, squeezing my eyes shut tight. "Sorry." The arms held me tighter, and the warmness passed from their body into mine. The tears stopped and I wiped my eyes, looking up.

The person hugging me was Michael.

I blinked in disbelief. He pulled away slowly, a small grin on his face. "It still isn't okay," he started, "because I don't forgive you for what you did. But we can start to maybe fix this friendship?" He gestured between the two of us.

I nodded, a smile appearing on my face as well. "Thank you."

He nodded, but something caught his eye and he stared at something behind me. "Look," he whispered, poking me and tugging on Jeremy's arm.

A few lunch tables away, two boys sat next to each other. One of them was blond and was wearing a blue polo, and the other had shoulder-length chocolate hair. They were clearly holding hands, and happiness seemed to radiate from them.

"What?" Jeremy said, glancing at Michael. "It's only—"

"Shh," Michael interrupted, shaking his head. "Watch."

We watched as a short boy with brown hair and glasses walked up to the couple. The pair turned to the newcomer, who in turn began to speak animatedly with them. He continued for a few moments, then suddenly he just... stopped. Froze. He started to shake, covering his hands with his face.

The tallest boy, which was the one with long brown hair, stood up and embraced the shortest boy, who seemingly had started crying.

The blonde stood up hesitantly with the tall boy and joined the hug, albeit a bit cautiously.

They stood like that for a while. 

After they separated the boy with glasses faltered, and it was clear that his face was bright red. The original couple kissed slowly, then motioned the third to sit down between them. He obliged, and after a second, the tallest boy placed a kiss on the shortest boy's cheek. This caused the him to blush darker, adjusting his glasses nervously. The blonde crossed his arms, saying something to the long haired boy, then also placed a kiss on the shortest boy's cheek.

The shortest boy grinned and returned the kisses, then said something indignantly, causing the tallest boy to shake his head and bend over, clutching his stomach, and the blonde to cover his face in apparent embarrassment.

We watched as they laughed together, and when I glanced at Michael, he had a warm smile on his face.

"He did it," Michael whispered wonderingly, drumming his fingers quietly on the table. "Jared did it."

 


End file.
